


Fire and Lightning

by YouCantKeepMeDown



Series: Arcana [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood Mage Lucifer, Blood Magic, Curses, King Dean Winchester, Knight Sam Winchester, M/M, Mage Michael, Mage Raphael, Michean main pairing, Morally Ambiguous Character, Nonbinary Raphael, Samifer is pretty important for the plot though, Undead Creatures, lots of brotherly archangel feels, past Michifer, they're adopted, they're not actually brothers though, they/their as pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-05 18:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13393677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouCantKeepMeDown/pseuds/YouCantKeepMeDown
Summary: Dean is still not used to Sam’s new lover, the necromancer and blood mage Lucifer, when even more mages show up on the Winchester lands. Michael and Raphael claim they’re after Lucifer because of crimes he commited and they have to bring him back to their homeland so he can be brought to justice. But is Lucifer actually guilty? And then there’s the fact that having Lucifer taken from him will break Sam’s heart. Dean can’t allow that, even though the more he talks to Michael the more he starts to like the stubborn bastard.And Michael knows it’s his duty to capture and return his brother Lucifer home, but the more he talks to Dean the more he starts to doubt that everything he thought he knows is true.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to [Blood an Bones](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12390552/chapters/28191324). It helps, if you read Blood and Bones first, but you can probably also understand what's happening here without reading it.
> 
> I wrote this for the Angels of SPN BigBang, but the BigBang got cancelled, so I'm posting it chapter for chapter now. Updates every Tuesday and Friday.
> 
> Thanks a lot to my wonderful beta readers Coplins, Brieflymaximumprincess and Askatosch. Askatosch also did art for this. [You can find it here](https://askatosch.tumblr.com/post/169783114624/battlemagemichael-based-on-the-michean-fanfic).

The flaming sword cut the undead man in half. Michael whirled around, blade painting a glowing arch in the growing darkness. The head of the other undead dropped to the ground with a dull thud.

Then he looked around, sword raised high, flames flickering over the metal of the blade.

“That was all of them,” Raphael said next to him.

“Good.” Michael called the fire back to him, flames dying, and sheathed his sword. He blinked the after images of the flames away until his eyes adjusted to the twilight, night approaching fast. “Are they his?”

Cloth rustled in the darkness. “I’ll need more light, big brother.”

With a sigh Michael called the fire back, let a single flame dance over his fingers. There was always something soothing about fire. The way it flickered and changed, unpredictable. But at the same time he was the one in control of it, in control of a potential for destruction that was rivaled by nothing else. It reminded him of the man they were looking for, even though with him Michael had only thought he was in control, he never truly was.

Raphael stepped into the light, flames painting shadows on their face that made them look not only genderless, but ageless as well. They touched their staff to the severed head, eyes staring at something only they could see. “They’re his.”

Michael nodded. “Finally.” Maybe he would feel better, when they got this over with.

“So much fun ahead of us,” Raphael said in a dry tone.

“It has to be done.”

He didn’t get an answer to that. Just silence. “Of course,” Raphael said after a long while. 

“Tonight? I saw a castle near by. Maybe the locals are hospitable.”

Yes, it didn’t have to be tonight. It was better to confront their brother by daylight anyway. Michael tried his best not to feel relieved about the small delay. “Good idea. Lead the way.”

* * *

The feast was mostly done with by the time the guests arrived.

Dean was proud of his little brother who had become a full knight today. Adam had proved his worth by winning four out of five fights against his senior knights (though Dean was almost sure Sam had let him win), and then there had been a lot of food, a lot of wine and even a few songs. It was late now, and most of the court (if you could call the handful of knights and other members of the Winchester household that) had gone to bed already. Only Sam and Adam were still up, putting their heads together over something that probably had to do with books. They were always talking about books nowadays, worse even when Lucifer was around. Dean was glad the necromancer had opted out of this event, grumbling something about too many people he didn’t want to try and make polite conversation with. Good. They both tried to get along for Sam’s sake, but the bastard was still fucking creepy and no one Dean actually wanted around more than necessary.

Anyway … when the late night guests arrived, the hall was mostly empty apart from Sam, Adam, Dean and Charlie, whom Dean was having a discussion about tactics with.

A castle guard showed them in. One of them was a dark skinned – Man? Woman? Dean wasn’t sure. The person was carrying a staff and were clad in an actual robe. The whole getup practically screamed mage. Not even Lucifer was that blatant, even though he sometimes wore bird skulls and stuff like that around his neck.

The other guy … Significantly lighter skin, short dark hair, a face poets and artists would probably gush about. Dean wasn’t one for gushing, but he appreciated a good looking guy all the same, and maybe his eyes lingered a bit more than they should, before he continued his assessment. The man wore a sword at his belt, no actual armor though, even though he was mostly clad in leather. The mage’s guard? But he carried himself like someone who was used to giving orders, walking half a step ahead of his companion like he was the one in charge. He looked around the room, meeting Sam’s gaze first, who was staring at them by now, and then settling on Dean. A little smile tugged at his lips. “Duke Winchester, I presume?”

No, that was his father. It took Dean a moment to remember that his father was dead, fallen in battle. He was still not used to it.

“Yes,” he said. “Welcome to my house. Granted you come in peace, of course.” The last thing they needed here were more fucking mages, but he was raised right, and you didn’t turn away travelers that needed a place to rest. If they knew how to behave.

The smile of the stranger grew wider. “Of course. My name is Michael.” He motioned to his companion. “This is my sibling Raphael. We just need a place to stay for the night.”

Dean nodded. “Be my guests. There should still be something left to eat, too. If you’re hungry.”

“We are,” Michael said. “You’re very generous.”

It didn’t take long for the guests to take a seat at the big table and a servant to bring them what was left of the feast.

Adam and Charlie watched them curiously. Sam’s face was darker though. Dean knew that look. Most of the time Sam got it in regard to Adam, when he went into protective older brother mode. But recently it was also what Dean was met with whenever he suggested that Lucifer was maybe not completely trustworthy. As if that was such an unreasonable thing to say.

Dean shot Sam a warning glance, but to no avail.

“You know you’re in another mage’s territory here, do you?” Sam finally blurted out.

Both of the guests turned to him at once. Eery.

“Yes,” Michael said finally. “We have business to conclude with him.”

“Business?” Dean asked. He might not like Lucifer, but he owed him his life and he wasn’t a traitor.

“Can’t be friendly business, if you’re spending the night here instead of his tower,” Sam said. Dean saw Sam’s hand creep towards one of the knives on the tables, and motioned to Charlie to go stand between his brother and the guests. As long as they didn’t do anything, he wouldn’t have harm come to people he just granted the right of hospitality. You didn’t go around breaking the rules of hospitality.

“It’s a family matter,” Raphael said. Even the voice sounded neither male nor female. “It doesn’t concern you. There will come no harm to your lands.”  
Great. If that didn’t sound like trouble.

In a second, Sam was on his feet, hand on the hilt of a knife, even though he didn’t lift it from the table yet.

Charlie stepped forward, placing a hand on Sam’s chest. “Easy there. They’re guests, Sam.”

Michael swallowed the last bite of his meal, and looked from Sam’s bitchface to Charlie to Dean. He furrowed his brows. “I sense no dark magic about you and I’m pretty sure Lucifer hasn’t become any more of a team player since he left. You can’t like having a blood mage and necromancer as your direct neighbour.”

So, Michael was a mage, too? This was even more trouble than Dean had thought. He exchanged a glance with Sam, and luckily saw caution there, too. Good. So his little brother was keeping his calm and thinking strategically.

“Sam,” Dean said. “Why don’t you step outside for a moment?” And let Lucifer know there was trouble coming. Dean knew those two had means to communicate, even though he’d never asked for details. And again, he might not like the guy, but you don’t go around and stab someone in the back who saved your life. Twice.  
Sam nodded his agreement. He brushed past Charlie, but when he passed Raphael, the mage reached out and grabbed his wrist. Now Dean was the one reaching for the next best thing he could use as a weapon, cursing the fact that he didn’t have his sword on him.

“We mean you no harm,” Michael said. At the same time, Raphael turned Sam’s hand and pulled the sleeve of Sam’s shirt up a little.

Dean bit back a curse, when he saw the cuts, most of them older and as good as healed, but there was no doubt about their origin.

“Looks like Lucifer got himself a pet,” Raphael said.

Sam pulled his hand back, lips curled into something akin to a snarl. “I’m no one’s pet.”

Dean wasn’t too sure about that the longer he looked at the cuts. They’d talk about this later, that much was for sure. But for now there were two mages that would maybe hurt Sam just because of his association to Lucifer, and there was no way Dean would tolerate that. “I granted you the right of hospitality,” he said, voice sharp. “You planning to break it?”

“We don’t.” Michael motioned to Raphael to stay seated, while he himself got up slowly. “I see I misjudged the situation. Can we talk?” He threw Sam a look. “Without the current company. I’ll leave my weapons and my sibling with your men and I’ll explain to you exactly why we’re here and what we’re going to do. You seem to be a reasonable man. I’m sure we can resolve this.”

Granted, talking sounded better than facing two mages in battle. “Fine,” Dean said. He addressed his youngest brother next, but kept his eyes on the mage, daring him to protest. “Adam, go fetch some guards. Charlie, make sure Sam doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Dean!” Sam protested.

“I got this, Sammy. Don’t worry.” Dean wasn’t sure about that, but it was his job to look out for his younger brothers, so he sure as hell would do exactly that. He waited for Michael to leave his sword with his sibling than motioned for him to follow. “Come.”

As they left, Dean felt Sam’s gaze burning holes in his back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a lot of honesty and some thinly veiled threats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost flirting, don't you think? ;-)

The great hall had a second exit that led straight to a small garden inside the castle walls. That’s where Dean led his visitor now, taking a lamp from a hook by the door as he stepped out. While he fumbled for flint and iron to light the lamp, Michael extended a hand. “May I?”

Dean shrugged and handed the lamp over.

The (presumably) mage half turned away from Dean and lifted a finger toward the wick inside the lamp. Before Dean could wonder what good that was supposed to do, a small flame sprang to life on Michael’s finger tip. Dean couldn’t help but curse under his breath. So the bastard was showing off his powers now? If it was supposed to intimidate Dean, he’d have to try harder, though.

A moment later, Michael handed the lit lamp back with a smile that showed off dimples that Dean tried very hard to ignore. “Here you go.”

He had definitely been showing off to intimidate, Dean decided. No better way to get what you wanted than making clear from the start that you only chose to play nice. Dean took the lamp back and led the way over a gravel path towards a bench that he knew was in plain sight from the castle walls. So what if the mage could burn everything to crisps, if he wanted to? Burning anything would be hard with a few arrows in his chest.

Michael sat on the bench, and Dean put the lamp on the floor nearby, before he sat on the other end. He leaned back draping an arm over the backrest, trying to look as relaxed as possible. No way some mage was going to think he managed to scare him.

And since he was already at it playing unimpressed, he let his eyes wander, too. He wasn’t checking Michael out (well, maybe a little bit, and he definitely did his best to make it look like he was), but looked for clues of what else the mage could do. The leather clothing he was wearing that was a bit too thin to be armor made a lot more sense now. If you’re playing with fire on a regular basis you want to have as few flammable things on your person as possible. The sword made less sense, though. Maybe he knew just a little bit of magic and was mainly a fighter?

When Dean’s gaze returned to Michael’s face there was just the hint of a smile tugging at the other man’s lips. Then his gaze traveled down Dean’s body in turn, lifting an appreciative eyebrow in the process. That was unexpected, but kind of nice. Would’ve been nice, if they hadn’t been in the situation they were in.

“You just going to enjoy the view or are you actually going to start talking any time soon?” Dean asked, handily ignoring that they’d been doing the exact same thing.

The corners of Michael’s lips twitched, but he turned serious again fast. “We’re here to bring Lucifer to justice for his crimes.”

Dean would have had to lie to say that came as a surprise. Of course the necromancer had some skeletons in his basement. Literally probably. “I know the guy is hardly innocent, but what kind of crimes are we talking about here?”

“High treason to begin with. And I assume you know about his magic? It always needs a life or blood in the least. He’s tortured and murdered countless people to cast his spells.”

Dean thought about the cuts on Sam’s arm. “You think he’s using my brother for his spells, too?” If Lucifer was hurting Sam, it didn’t matter how deeply indebted Dean was to him. Then Dean would gladly present the necromancer to Michael and Raphael, complete with a nice little bow and a thank you card.

The question was, though, why would Sam let him? Sure, Lucifer wasn’t exactly easy to kill, but Sam wasn’t exactly helpless either. And Michael had said none of them was under any kind of spell, hadn’t he? So no messing with Sam’s mind. A terrible thought occurred to Dean. “Or do you think he’s teaching Sam his kind of magic?”

Sam couldn’t be stupid enough to dabble in dark magic, could he? Not Sam, who was always trying so hard to treat everyone fair, who had asked Dean to stop executing thieves and beggars as soon as Dean was declared sovereign of their small piece of land. Yes, John had always seen a dark side in Sam, had told Dean that he had to look out, that his younger brother was trouble. But John had also never quite gotten over their mother who had died giving birth to Sam, trusting some charlatan a bit too much in the process. Even after John had married anew he’d never gotten over her loss.

Michael gave an apologetic shrug. “All I can say is that scars like that are common, if you frequently draw blood for spells. Lucifer has quite a few of them himself.”  
For a moment Dean pressed his lips together, thinking. He had to confront Sam about this, he had to know the truth. After he dealt with their visitors. “So what are you planning to do?” he asked. “Kill Lucifer?”

Michael shook his head, almost looking a bit shocked. “He’s getting a trial, I made sure of that.”

That sounded fair, Dean had to admit. Especially if Lucifer actually committed the crimes Michael accused him of.

The mage shifted a bit on the bench, leaning forward, locking eyes with Dean. His eyes had looked green in the great hall, now they seemed hazel in the light of the lamp. And Dean didn’t know why he was thinking about that at all. “I’m not asking for your help. Just stand back and let us do what we came here for. You don’t want to get caught in the middle of a fight between mages anyway.”

That was very true. Still … “Any chance he could’ve changed since you last saw him? He saved the whole village a while back.”

That made Michael blink in surprise. “He did?”

Dean nodded. “He probably just did it so Sam wouldn’t make sad puppy eyes at him, but we would’ve been raided by bandits, if it hadn’t been for him.”  
For a moment Michael looked at him with a thoughtful expression. “Say,” he said after a while. “What are Lucifer and your brother to each other?”

Dean knew where that was heading, and he didn’t like it one bit. “If you plan on using my brother as leverage against Lucifer, you’re a dead man! I don’t care what kind of powerful mage you are. I don’t care, if I’m maybe not even capable of kicking your ass personally.” He didn’t even realize that he’d been leaning forward himself until his face was suddenly inches from Michael’s. “Hell, if you hurt Sam, I’ll gladly donate all the blood Lucifer needs for a spell to rip every bone from your body and smash you to bits.” For a moment he stayed right in Michael’s personal space, gaze drilling into those hazel eyes. “Understood?”

The bastard had the nerve to smile a little smile again as if he was somehow pleased with Dean threatening him. “I respect you wanting to protect your family. And I don’t want any bystanders to get hurt in this.” Michael lifted a hand, and Dean expected the mage to push him away, but instead he smoothed out the collar of Dean’s shirt. So showing off his powers wasn’t enough, he had to play little dominance games, too. Dean made a point of not shying away from the touch. He didn’t mind it anyway, feeling Michael’s body warmth seep through the fabric at the point of contact. “I will not harm your brother, if he keeps away. But no matter what Lucifer did recently, he has to be brought to justice for his crimes.” With that he pushed Dean away gently and stood up. “I guess it’s better we leave. Please consider my words and thank you for your hospitality.”

He started to walk down the path.

“Wait!” Dean called after him, getting up himself.

Michael stopped and turned towards him again, tilting his head to the side. “You’re not going to break the rules of hospitality, are you?”

Yeah, the rules of hospitality. You didn’t attack a guest unless they broke the rules first. Michael didn’t look like he expected an attack, though. Instead he stood there completely relaxed.

“No, but if you don’t want me and my knights on your ass right the second you step out of my castle, you better prove to me that Lucifer did something to hurt or manipulate Sam. Because that’s the only way you get me to back out of this. I really hate the guy, but I owe him my life. Twice.”

And that’s what is came down to. Dean had to make sure Sam was alright, but if he proved to be, there was only one right thing to do.

Michael lifted an eyebrow. For a moment he just looked at Dean as if he was reevaluating him. Then he slowly lifted a hand. A small flame flickered over his fingertips. “I could burn your castle to the ground in minutes.”

Dean tensed, but he stayed where he was. He was pretty sure he heard the creaking of a bowstring being pulled back from the walkway on the walls above. The second Michael tried something, he would be dead. “So you’re the one who’s going to break the rules of hospitality?”

That made Michael smile again, and the flame died down. “Fine,” he said. “Talk to your brother. Make up your mind about what he has to say. And if he lets me, I can show you his aura, take a closer look for signs of magic influences.”

“I’ll make a decision about this in the morning. You’ll stay here until then.” No way Dean was letting two potentially dangerous mages just run free on his own damn land.

That got him another lifted eyebrow. “I’m not going to sleep in a cell tonight.” It was a plain statement, no arrogance in it.

“You won’t, unless you insist.”

And there was that smile again, like Michael appreciated the thinly veiled threat. “In that case, I’ll gratefully accept your offer for me and my sibling to be your _guests_ for a while longer.” He stressed the word ‘guests’. “And if you contact Lucifer – which I don’t mind, by the way. He knows that we’re here anyway –, please stress to him that I’m very willing to keep everyone of importance to him out of this, if he doesn’t do anything rash.”

“I’ll have someone show you and your … sibling to your rooms then.” Dean picked the lamp up and gestured for Michael to start heading back towards the hall. This was going to be a very long night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are puppy eyes and Lucifer has a flair for the dramatic.

“You believe him?” Sam’s voice echoed angrily from the walls of the great hall. They were alone now. Adam had seen their ‘guests’ to their rooms and Charlie had gone to make sure that someone would be watching them all the time. “You believe what he said about Lucifer?”

“Well, look me in the eyes and tell me it’s so fucking unlikely!” Dean tried to keep his voice level, but it was hard. Why did his brother have to be so stupidly in love with a fucking dark mage? He could’ve picked Jess the daughter of the Earl on the other side of the woodlands. Or Amelia, even though she was a bit weird. Hell, even that little shit Tyson Brady Sam liked to spend his time with occasionally would’ve been a better match.

Sam sighed and slumped back in his chair, dragging the fingers of both his hands through his hair. “If he committed treason, I’m sure he had his reasons. He isn’t greedy, he doesn’t want to rule or anything. He has an undead army that could sack this castle, but last time I checked, you were still Duke.”

Dean scoffed. “Great, so he maybe committed treason for the right reasons, but you’re not even trying to dispute him murdering and torturing people!”

That made Sam deflate even more. Dean felt almost sorry for him. “He doesn’t any more.”

“Well, awesome.” How had Sam managed to fall in love with someone like that? Dean was pretty sure necromancers didn’t do love potions. “What about the cuts on your arm you’ve been hiding from all of us?”

Instantly Sam’s right hand went to his left wrist. “I haven’t been hiding them. I just didn’t mention them.”

“Sam!” It was way too late for nitpicking.

Dean’s younger brother gave an annoyed huff. “Remember the werewolf last month?”

Of course Dean remembered that. He nodded. “That are no werewolf claw marks.”

“Well, of course not.” Sam rolled his eyes. “But the spell for finding him in his human form required blood, and it saved us a lot of trouble.”

It annoyed Dean that he couldn’t argue against that, because it really had saved them a lot of trouble. “Can’t he use his own?” he grumbled.

“Sometimes a spell requires blood of someone who’s a bit nicer than him.”

“At least finding someone like that isn’t hard.” Dean wasn’t ready to drop the topic that fast, though. “And why are there so many cuts, hm? Don’t tell me you’ve been constantly fighting monsters. It’s been quiet for a while now.”

Another annoyed huff, then Sam straightened up. “Alright, if you have to know. He taught me one spell.”

So, Sam really was stupid enough to dabble in dark magic? “Sammy, are you –”

Dean was cut short by Sam lifting a hand. “It’s so I can contact him. I drip a bit of blood into a bowl or something and say a word and then I can send messages to him. I was about to do that again tonight, by the way.” Sam glared at Dean as if he was daring him to do something against it. “It’s useful, it’s harmless. I just knew you’d react the way you just did! So I didn’t tell you.”

Dean pressed his lips together, angrily meeting his brother’s gaze. It all sounded believable. He’d known Sam had a way of sending Lucifer messages in no time. It made sense. And it really wasn’t that bad, if you looked past the fact that it was technically still dark magic. Since blood magic was dark per definition, wasn’t it? At least that was what they always told you in all the stories.

“Listen, Dean.” Now Sam was leaning forward, talking urgently. “I don’t care what Lucifer did in the past. He helps keep our village safe. He saved your life. Twice. And above all I love him. If our two ‘guests’ want him, they have to go through me.”

Dean had feared as much. He pinched the bridge of his nose wrecking his brain for a way to keep his younger brother safe that preferably didn’t include locking him up in the dungeon until this had passed.

“But get this,” Sam went on. “Maybe we don’t have to fight. That Michael guy seems to like you. Talk to him, please. Make him understand that we need Lucifer here. He can just go home and tell them he killed him or whatever. Lucifer won’t return there anyway, and I promise you, I can make sure he won’t hurt anyone ever again. I can vouch for him, if that helps.” The further Sam went on, the more his words turned into a plea. And then there they were, the big round watery puppy eyes that Dean had never been able to refuse. “Please.”

Dean wasn’t sure how Sam did it. He was the tallest man Dean knew, he could lift cartwheels and barely break a sweat. Still, when he looked at Dean like that he was all little brother and Dean could hear their father’s words again: “Look out for your brother, Dean.”

Dean sighed. “Fine,” he bit out angrily. “I’ll defend your necromancer lover. But just to be clear. After that, he owes me. And if he missteps just a little bit –”

A commotion outside interrupted him. Then the doors to the great hall flew open, and in the middle of the doorframe stood Lucifer, a black cloak billowing around him, eyes blazing. “Dean Winchester, do you have any idea who you just invited into your house?”

Always such a joy to have the necromancer around. “As a matter of fact, I do,” Dean answered annoyed. “And I invite you into my house on a regular basis, so the standards aren’t high, you know.”

Lucifer threw him a bitchface that rivaled Sam’s.

Oh yes. It was going to be a very long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As we all know, it's canon that Dean can't say no to Sam's puppy eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get the hear the story of what happens, but still don't know the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit experimental. The italic text parts are set in the night the chapter before this was set in. Right after Lucifer's dramatic entrance.
> 
> But the other parts are set the morning after.

_Lucifer knew it was unreasonable to be angry. They couldn’t have known who had knocked on their door, and trying to fight two mages would’ve ended badly for them anyway. But feeling Michael’s and Raphael’s aura so close, it made him long for a home he could never have again and itch for revenge on the people who took it from him._

_Lucifer only realized he had reached out for Sam, when his fingers twisted in the short curls in the nape of Sam’s neck. Well, he had a new home now. He felt Sam’s hand at the small of his back, calming him down as if his lover sensed his unrest._

_“Now …” Dean was sitting on the table, leaning forward, visibly tired after a long day, but there was still determination in his gaze. “I promised Sammy I’d try and talk your siblings out of dragging you off. Anything that could work in your defence?”_

_Well, wasn’t that a surprise. If he was honest, Lucifer had half expected Dean to just hand him over._

_“Michael won’t listen to you, but it’s probably best, if I tell you the whole story.” Maybe that’d keep them from doing anything stupid. Well, anything even more stupid than they’d usually do. Lucifer took a big breath. “Michael and Raphael are two of the most powerful mages this side of the Vicious Sea. They could destroy this castle in a heartbeat, if they wanted to.”_

_“So … more powerful than you?” Dean asked._

_Lucifer smirked. “No.”_

* * *

Michael knew there was no reason to feel so anxious. After almost a year of traveling they’d finally reached the end of their search. But feeling Lucifer’s aura so close, it made him long for times that could never be again. He wanted to make Lucifer pay for ruining it all, and at the same time he wanted to demand of him to come back to somehow make it right again.

Sitting on the edge of the bed he had spent the night in he buried his face in his hands. For a moment he felt Raphael’s hand in his hair, soothing his unrest, even though his sibling was probably feeling the same.

Then there was a knock on the door. Michael called for the person to come in, and Dean did so, closing the door behind him. He looked tired after a probably way too short night, but there was still that light in his green eyes that Michael had already admired yesterday. A bit of humor and a lot of determination sparkling in their depths.

“You made your decision?” Michael asked.

Dean shrugged. “Mostly. I came here to talk again, though. Got the full story from Lucifer yesterday.”

“Are you sure you got the truth?”

Another shrug. “Feel free to add to what you told me yesterday. Provided you hear me out afterwards.”

“You won’t change my mind, but it’s probably best, if you know the full story.” Michael exchanged a quick look with Raphael, who nodded. Maybe it’d make sure Dean Winchester didn’t get involved, even though Michael feared he would. Stupid, but also admirable in a way.

He took a deep breath. “Lucifer is one of the most powerful mages this side of the Vicious Sea,” Michael started. “He could take this castle from you whenever he pleases.”

“This is basically what he said about you, too.”

Michael gave a little half smile. “Well, he’s not wrong.”

* * *

_“We grew up together,” Lucifer said. “We’re not really siblings, but the Emperor, our father, stole us from our families when we were still very young, because of our magic potential. He trained us so we would help him secure and expand his empire one day.”_

_Lucifer thought back to when he’d still been trusting and naive. So happy in his ignorance, pouring over books about magic with his siblings, them practicing basic spells, thinking the world was like it should be._

_“He trained Michael and Raphael himself. Gabriel and me were given over to his sister Amara, because our chosen paths aligned better with her knowledge.”_

_“She taught you blood magic?” Dean asked, disapproval in his voice. “Dark magic?” If he could just stop being so damn righteous for a few minutes Lucifer could maybe actually like his lover’s brother._

_“As a matter of fact, she did,” Lucifer answered testily. “And father knew and approved. It gave him an edge over his enemies, one they didn’t expect. What he didn’t approve of was that power being used without his say so.”_

* * *

“Our Father took us in, when we were still young,” Michael said. “We came from poor families, some of us were orphans. He helped us develop our skills.”

Michael thought back to when they were all still happy, when the world was still like it was supposed to be. Lucifer and him practicing with swords and knives in the yard of the palace, Gabriel and Raphael giving advice and snide comments from the sidelines. The best parts of their training had always been those when they didn’t have to brood over books.

“Amara taught Lucifer the dark arts in secret. If any of us had known … If father had known ... Lucifer always was the one of us who had the least qualms about killing, but we didn’t think …”

“He tells the story differently,” Dean said. There was not hostility in his voice, though. His gaze lay intently on Michael’s face, as if he could find the truth there, if he just looked hard enough.

Michael nodded, holding Dean’s gaze, almost drowning in those green eyes. Maybe part of the reason he wanted to sway the young Duke so much was that he hoped he could return here one day, when he was not on a mission. “Of course he does. He wouldn’t just admit committing high treason, would he? He and Amara turned against Father one day right before we were about to be sent on an important mission. They almost succeeded in killing Father and taking over the empire. We captured her. Lucifer was able to flee.”

Thinking back to that betrayal still hurt almost physically. Next to him Raphael turned abruptly and walked out of the room, a reminder that Michael wasn’t the only one who hadn’t gotten over it yet. Dean didn’t make a move to stop Raphael, didn’t even take his eyes from Michael.

“We were … very close,” Michael went on, “and I’ll always love him. But he’s dangerous. He’s a monster. There’s no telling what else he might do. What he might do to you as soon as he’s tired of acting friendly.”

* * *

_“Amara told me about the foes we were about to face,” Lucifer said. “The Leviathans. Maybe she lied, I’m not sure any more. But if she was right, father’s plan for fighting them included sacrificing one of us. Specifically, having me kill one of the others. I was trained to rip all the life energy and the magic out of one of my siblings, to use it for the most powerful spell in history. I didn’t want to. So I helped her turn on Father.”_

_“She could’ve lied, though?” Sam asked._

_“Technically. But after what he approved of me doing to train my skills …” Lucifer shook his head. “Michael never believed me, though.” Thinking back to that betrayal still hurt almost physically. Next to him, Sam leaned even closer, a reminder that at least something good had come out of all of this. “We were … very close,” Lucifer went on, “and I’ll always love him. But he’s wrong in this. I’m not saying that I’m a saint. But I care about the people I consider mine.” He stared into green eyes that were still way too judging. “There’s nothing I won’t do for someone close to me, no matter if it’s murder or high treason. You understand that, don’t you, Dean? What would you do, if you were asked to harm one of your brothers?”_

_For a moment, Dean just stared back, but then he nodded. Good. It wasn’t like anyone without magical abilities would be able to accomplish much here, but that was one less person Lucifer would have to watch his back from._

_“I’m not asking for your help here,” he went on. “Even Raphael will just laugh, if you face them with a sword. Just don’t interfere. And keep them away from Sam.”_

_“I can take care of myself,” Sam protested._

_Lucifer rolled his eyes. Knights … “Of course you can. Try not to do anything stupidly heroic, though, will you?”_

_“And you really don’t think talking will accomplish anything?”_

_“I tried that, Sammy. I tried that years ago. Look what it got me.”_

* * *

“You know what?” Dean said. “Maybe you’re even right.” There was something in his eyes, though, that told Michael he wouldn’t side with him and Raphael in this. “But I don’t think so. Lucifer is a creepy murderous son of a bitch, I give you that. But maybe you really don’t have all of the facts here.”

He stepped closer and looked down at Michael, who was still sitting on the edge of the bed. He most definitely wasn’t pleading, instead it felt like he was saying: ‘I may try to reason with you now, but watch what I’ll do, if you don’t agree with me.’

Knights … Never had much of an idea what they were facing, when dealing with magic.

Michael could appreciate the courage, though. He could appreciate most of the things Dean did, which was slightly maddening, considering that the Duke was standing between him and his goals right now. But Michael understood it. He understood the loyalty and the way Dean honored people who’d helped him in the past.

So Michael just leaned back a bit, tilting his head back to look up. “I have to believe that Father isn’t lying to us.”

Dean nodded like he understood that, too. “Even if it means fighting a man that’s like your own brother to you?”

Even the thought of it turned Michael’s stomach, but he shoved the uneasiness away. Lucifer had betrayed them. This was his doing.

When Michael didn’t answer right away, Dean took another step forward, his knees brushing Michael’s now. “Think about it. You could return home and tell them he’s dead. We’ll make sure he stays in line. I could even promise you that we’ll let you know, if he does something unspeakably evil again. Then you could still get back here and fight him. I could vouch for him.”

Dean’s knee nudged at Michael’s and the touch sent a series of sparks up Michael’s leg.

_You can’t afford to get distracted_ , he reminded himself at the same time as his legs fell open a bit to allow Dean to step between them. Two temptations in one. Maybe it even was a calculated move from Dean’s side, pulling every register to make him give in. Michael didn’t know, but for the moment the closeness distracted him from thoughts about what he had to do, gave him time to breathe and just be and not think about anything other than the warmth that seeped through both of their clothes at the points of contact.

“You don’t have to fight him,” Dean continued his siren song, green eyes never leaving Michael’s.

It would be so easy to give in to both temptations. Slowly, Michael lifted a hand to press it against Dean’s chest like he’d done the night before. He could feel Dean’s heart hammering underneath his fingertips. If it was a calculated move, it apparently wasn’t one Dean minded much. His pupils were blown, too. Michael expected him to say something to acknowledge the attraction between them, use it somehow, include the opportunity for them to get to know each other better in his offer. He didn’t, and that made it feel more genuine in a way. Made it harder to do what Michael was about to do.

“I have my orders,” he said, pushing slightly. “I’m sorry. I admire your integrity, Dean. I wish we could have met under different circumstances.”

There was disappointment in Dean’s eyes, when he stepped back to allow Michael to get up. “You got until noon to leave my lands,” he said, voice hard now. “As long as you’re after Lucifer, you’re not welcome here.”

Michael nodded. He brushed past Dean, their shoulders touching, just so he could get a last scrap of that closeness. For a moment he thought he could feel Dean leaning into the touch. Then Michael was by the door. When he stepped out, Raphael was waiting for him surrounded by five very nervous looking guards.

“Thank you for the hospitality,” Michael said over his shoulder. “Come, Raphael. We have an appointment with our brother.”

“You could at least try and listen to him!” Dean called after them.

Michael shook his head. He had tried that years ago. He still couldn’t believe what he’d heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this made sense to everyone. If not, just ask.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam has a stupid idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a Samifer chapter in a Michean story, because I totally can't keep away from Samifer.

_The night before_

Sam pulled Lucifer along the castle corridors by his wrist. Lucifer allowed it, even though he was getting more irritated by the second. “Sam,” he tried for a teasing tone, even though he didn’t feel like it. “I wasn’t aware you missed me that much, but now is not the time for –”

“I want to give you something on the way, then you can go make battle preparations.” Sam’s voice was clipped, and there was that frown on his face that he always got, when he was set on something.

“Promise me you’ll stay away from them,” Lucifer said. His knight was up to something, he just wasn’t sure what yet, so he tried to cover for all eventualities. “No, better swear by the life of your brother.”

“I swear it,” Sam said almost disinterested. “As long as you win, I’ll keep perfectly away from both of them.”

Stupid knight!

Lucifer didn’t get the opportunity to say anything else, though. They reached the door to Sam’s rooms and Sam threw it open. Finally he let go of Lucifer’s wrist, closed the door behind them.

He strode over to a desk that was a mess of books and papers and picked up a piece of chalk that he threw to Lucifer. Lucifer caught it automatically.

“Draw one of your ritual circles. You know which one,” Sam demanded. At the same time he pulled his shirt over his head.

Lucifer’s heart dropped a bit and did an exhilarated somersault at the same time. He hadn’t even asked. He’d never have asked for that. His undead were already searching the neighboring lands for people that would come in handy for spells. He knew better than to take any of the Winchester’s subjects, of course. Whoever Sam pointed to and told him not to touch was safe. But he was a blood mage and he was preparing to fight two other powerful mages. He needed blood and most likely a life. And he didn’t want to hurt Sam, but at the same time there was something deeply satisfying about his knight offering himself up like that. Trusting him like that.

“Sam,” Lucifer said anyway. “What exactly are you offering?”

Sam was shirtless by now, bent down to start working on his boots. “There’s no one in our dungeons right now that was sentenced to death. So I can’t help like ... that.” He pulled a face at the last word. Pure soul, still feeling uncomfortable about giving Lucifer people to kill, as if it made a difference, if they died by his blade or from hanging by their neck. 

“But,” Sam continued, “I can give you a few years of my life. You can store that until you need it, right?”

Lucifer nodded, but his heart clenched at the thought of taking even more of Sam’s life force than he had for saving the life of Sam’s stupid brother. He stepped forward, put a finger underneath Sam’s chin to lift it up. The knight stopped fiddling with the buckles of his boots and straightened up a bit, looking at Lucifer with those ever changing eyes.

“Sam,” Lucifer said, “I can’t keep shortening your lifespan.”

Sam’s brows furrowed, defiance in his eyes now. “Get this, Lucifer … Whenever I’m at your tower and you’re busy, I read.”

Lucifer laughed. That sounded like Sam. Acting like he wasn’t interested in something and secretly learning everything about it anyway.

“The greater your talent for magic, the older you get, right?” Sam continued. “So my lifespan is shorter than yours by a few hundred years anyway, isn’t it? And I’ve seen some of the bookmarks you leave and some of the notes you take. You’re looking for a way to fix that.”

Clever knight. Lucifer couldn’t help but smile. “I haven’t found a way you’ll approve of so far.”

“If you take enough of my life force to properly defend yourself now –” Sam swallowed, visibly forcing the next sentence out. “– I promise I’ll set my morals aside, if you find a way to prolong it later. When there’s someone in our dungeon who’d die anyway.”

Under normal circumstances Lucifer would’ve loved to hear that. Sam with his dark side showing was a beautiful thing to behold. But this was something that could easily turn bitter later. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes! I don’t want you harming anyone innocent, if you can take from me.”

“I could just run and not fight,” Lucifer tried. Not that he wanted to, but he didn’t want to fight this fight with all of Sam’s restrictions either. Well, there probably wouldn’t be a suitable victim in a reasonable distance anyway. Cursed backwater villages with nothing but wilderness around them. But surely there was someone in this damned village that Sam didn’t like and that no one would miss.

“Take me with you?” Sam asked.

As if he’d want to leave his brothers and his home. “Not going to happen with my siblings so close on my heels.”

His knight glared at him. “Then don’t even think about it!”

Anger rose up in Lucifer, too. “Is there anything I’m allowed to do?”

Lucifer could see the muscles in Sam’s jaw working. The knight pushed Lucifer’s hand away and pulled his boots off his feet. In nothing but his pants he went to rummage through a small pack that was leaning against a wall in a corner of the room, and came back with a length of rope that he pushed into Lucifer’s hands.

Sam took the piece of chalk instead, and kneeled on the floor, drawing a circle.

For the moment, Lucifer’s curiosity won over everything else. He watched Sam draw something from memory that he’d seen maybe twice so far. For someone not schooled in the magic arts he did a surprisingly good job. When he made a mistake with one of the runes at the edges of the circle, Lucifer spoke up: “Erase that. Try again.”

Sam gave a frustrated huff. He went to the washbasin on a table by the window, dunked a piece of cloth in it and erased the rune, drew it again. Right this time. Lucifer was impressed. He pointed out four more mistakes, always hoping Sam would give up at some point, until the knight was done. Then Sam stepped into the circle and dropped to his knees, hands clasped behind his back, looking at Lucifer expectantly.

Lucifer cursed softly under his breath. Stupid, stubborn, heroic knight. He let the rope glide through his fingers, just barely keeping from stepping closer and wrapping it around sun tanned skin and take what was offered. Even though he might hate himself for it later.

“Please,” Sam said, eyes big now. “I know I can’t keep you from just taking a sacrifice from the village, but if you do that, it’ll be my fault. Everyone will say we should’ve just handed you over to your siblings or should’ve driven you off a long time ago. Someone will be dead, because I wanted you here, because I made them trust you to an extend. And I couldn’t stand knowing that anyone got hurt because of my selfishness. But on the other hand, if you actually honor my request not to hurt anyone I care for, it’ll be my fault, if you lose. I’ll lose you, because of me being …” He paused, looking for words.

Lucifer smiled, feeling a surge of warmth towards Sam. “A way too honorable, stupidly heroic knight that clings to his morals too much.”

Sam huffed a small laugh, lowering his head for a moment, his hair falling over his face. “Exactly that.” Then he turned the full force of his puppy eyes at Lucifer. “Do this for me. Please!”

Lucifer sighed, drawing the rope taut between his hands. How could anyone say no to that? “Fine.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll not only tie you up this time, but gag you, too, since we’re kind of surrounded by people and it won’t hurt any less than last time.”

Sam threw him a loopsided smile. “Kinky.”

All of a sudden Lucifer’s throat was too tight to get sound out. He cleared his throat. “Try to be quiet anyway.”

Sam nodded. “You better win this fight.”

Lucifer wasn’t completely sure, if he could, even with all of Sam’s extraordinary life force at his disposal, but he’d try his best, that much was for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope Sam's reasoning makes sense.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is an undead basilisk and some doubts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you remember the basilisk form Blood and Bones? Well, you didn't expect Lucifer to just let it lie around, did you?
> 
> Edit: The very talented Keandre [drew the Basilisk](https://spnyoucantkeepmedown.tumblr.com/post/171996879182/wearemykingdom-spnyoucantkeepmedown-im-not-sure) and it's great.

The sun was only just rising, when Michael and Raphael approached the tower. They had left the Winchester castle right after Michael’s talk with Dean, green eyes watching them from the wall walk. Michael still felt those eyes on him, even though there were a few miles between them and the castle by now. He tried to shake the feeling, but it lingered, even when he spotted Lucifer in one of the tower windows, leaning out. Lucifer hadn’t changed, blond hair still in dire need of a comb, and still the same smug smile on his face.

“Michael! Raphael! What a nice surprise!” he called down mockingly. “A bit disappointing to see you’re more the ‘knocking on the front door of the evil necromancer’s tower’ kind of people, though. Even some of the knights around here have more sense and try to sneak in, you know? Anyway … how are things back home?”

“You dare ask that?” At the angry shout, Michael turned to Raphael. In his sibling’s face were all the emotions clearly written that Michael tried so hard to keep locked up. Betrayal, anger, hurt. “You know how thing are? Gabriel ran away! After what you did, father didn’t trust him anymore, because he was Amara’s student, too. He couldn’t stand it.”

“Well good!” Lucifer gave back angrily. “That way at least he’s safe.”

Not that again. Michael couldn’t bear to hear it a second time. “Surrender, Lucifer, and you’ll get a fair trial back home.”

Lucifer shook his head. “I’m afraid I have to decline. As long as father is making the decisions, there won’t be a fair trial for me.”

Of course he’d say that. “We have orders to either bring you home in chains or kill you.” Michael had to force the words out. But those were the only two choices left, no matter how much Dean’s siren song still resonated in him. No matter how much he wished things could be different.

“Oh, orders!” Lucifer’s words practically dripped with sarcasm. “Well, if you have orders, of course you don’t have a choice, haven’t you, Michael? Always such a good son to the man who ripped you from your real family.”

Anger flared hot in Michael just like the fire that was second nature to him now. “I don’t have to listen to this, Lucifer! Come down here or we’ll drag you out!”

“Then come and try drag me out! We’ll see how well that’ll go!” With that Lucifer’s face was gone from the window, and the tower lay before them, silent and forbidding.

Raphael cursed under their breath.

Michael drew his sword and called for the fire, letting it burn through him, cleanse him from all hopes and regrets. “You didn’t expect him to listen, did you?”

A sad smile bloomed on Raphael’s face. “No, of course not.” They nodded towards the door. “I’ll give you cover while you break it down.”

* * *

The door went to pieces without much resistance. Behind it the difficulties started. The undead were waiting in the staircase. Michael’s sword cut lines of fire through the semi darkness, severing limbs from bodies and head from necks.

As soon as the first wave was done with, Michael started to run up the stairs.

“Watch out!” Raphael called from behind him. “Trap!”

Michael froze. He could hear more undead coming down the stairs, but for now he didn’t pay them any attention, let his eyes wander over the walls and the steps.

“Ceiling.” He could feel Raphael’s hand on his shoulder, then Raphael lifted their staff, touching it to a rune that was painted on the ceiling with what looked like a mix of paint and blood. For a moment, the rune glowed angry red, then that glow flowed into the staff like water.

“Cleared,” Raphael said, and Michael lifted his sword and continued to cut them a path.

* * *

They’d almost reached the top of the tower, leaving bodies strewn in their wake, when a tiny brunette woman stepped in their way. Well, not quite a woman by the way Raphael cursed under their breath. As Michael took a closer look, he saw it too. “Lucifer, you cursed son of a demon!” Even with all he’d heard about his brother’s misdeeds, it shocked Michael that Lucifer had dared bind someone’s soul to his blood and make it a weapon.

“Hello,” the woman said with a grin. “I’m Meg and I’m afraid I can’t let you pass.”

Michael lifted his sword, flames flickering higher. He felt Raphael’s protective magic wrap around him, but that wouldn’t be enough. “Raphael,” he whispered. “On my mark.”

Then Meg attacked so fast even he didn’t quite see it coming. Michael batted a hand away that had formed into a claw, but still felt sharp nails leaving red hot scratches on his right cheek. He sidestepped, swinging his sword as good as he could in the narrow staircase. The tip grazed Meg’s arm, and she hissed, when she came into contact with the flames.

The next few moments were a flurry. Attack, parry, counterattack. Raphael’s magic crackled around him, taking the force out of a few of Meg’s more vicious blows. Finally, he had her with her back to the wall. He plunged his sword right through her chest.

Her scream chilled him to the bones, not that of a grown woman, but that of the child she must’ve been, when Lucifer took her soul.

“Raphael, now!”

Lightning crackled. It jumped right from Raphael’s staff to the small figure of their opponent. It was just slightly tinted red, using the energy Raphael had drawn from Lucifer’s trap earlier.

Meg exploded in a shower of blood, but at least the scream finally stopped.

Raphael shuddered. “The things Amara taught him …”

Michael nodded. Disgusted he wiped some of the blood from his face. “We have to hurry. Those things are nearly impossible to kill. She might be back soon.” With that rushed up the last flight of stairs and through an exit that would most likely lead to the roof of the tower.

“Michael!” Raphael’s shout made him stop at the last step before he had even taken in his surroundings.

The first thing he saw a moment later was the Basilisk.

It wasn’t actually a Basilisk. Well, it had been, but then someone had chopped its head off and sewn it back on later. It looked at them with dead eyes that didn’t have the capacity of turning people into stone any more. Next to it was Lucifer down on one knee, bloody hand on some intricate runework that covered most of the flat roof of the tower. And that was probably what had prompted Raphael to call out. They must’ve sensed the spell, before Michael had had the chance to see it. Lucifer’s eyes were glowing with the amount of energy it cost him to power it, and the flow of it reached up to the tips of Michael’s feet.

“I’m sorry,” Lucifer said. “I’m pretty sure this won’t kill you, but it’ll burn your magic out.” With that he straightened up, spell finished, and jumped on the Basilisk’s back. The creature spread its wings, and in the split second Michael had before the spell would go off, he wasn’t sure, if he was actually angry about Lucifer getting away. It felt more like relief. And maybe that’s why he didn’t even try to do anything, just stood there, waiting for it to happen.

Raphael sprang into action instead. They stabbed their staff at the runework lines that went just in front of Michael’s feet. And instead of ripping into both of them, the energies flowed into the staff and from there into Raphael’s body. A very effective way to diffuse a spell, but also a very stupid one.

“No!” That was Lucifer’s voice, Michael was almost sure of it. He didn’t pay his brother any attention, though. Instead he put a hand on the bare skin on Raphael’s neck. “Share!” No way Raphael was able to contain so much destructive energy by themselves. You didn’t just go around absorbing spells that had already gone off and would’ve hurt you badly from the outside. This was going to burn them up from the inside out.

“No!” Michael’s sibling managed through gritted teeth. “He’ll get away. Get him!”

For a moment, Michael didn’t move. He had been prepared to lose one sibling today. But two? The thought alone hurt almost physically. This was his duty, though. He had his orders. Michael swallowed and forced all the hurt and worries down. There could only be anger. Anger he could use to feed the flames.

When he turned to Lucifer, though, his brother hadn’t used the distraction to flee or to cast another spell. Instead the Basilisk who had barely taken flight set down on the edge of the roof again. Lucifer jumped from its back and lifted both hands. “I surrender. Help them.”

Michael didn’t move, just staring at his brother. This … It had to be a trap. The brother who had plotted to murder Father in cold blood wouldn’t surrender, just because one of them was about to die.

“Michael!” Lucifer pleaded. “Believe me just this once! I surrender!”

Next to him Raphael gave a pained groan, a sound that made Michael’s heart clench. His sibling was hurt. And for all that he had to be a good son, he was an older brother, too. Without taking his eyes from Lucifer he reached out again, touched burning skin. “Share!”

This time Raphael did. It was just a small trickle at first, just enough to give him an edge should Lucifer still decide to attack. After a moment more and more power flowed into Michael’s body, just enough at once that he could still handle it. Michael welcomed it, soothed its destructive powers, stored it. Lucifer just stood next to his Basilisk, watching, muttering something about Raphael being an idiot. Despite himself, Michael agreed.

Finally the energy settled inside Michael, no longer burning, waiting to be used again. Next to him Raphael stood panting, but otherwise fine.

With a deep breath Michael lifted his sword again and took a step towards Lucifer.

Lucifer took a step back, reaching for the undead beast next to him. “I surrender under one condition.”

“I don’t think you’re in a position to dictate conditions, Lucifer.”

His brother gave a shrug and a loopsided grin. “Well, I still have my own blood and an undead Basilisk. That should be enough to not make this easy for you.” He suddenly turned completely serious then. “But the energy you just absorbed? That’s Sam’s. Sam’s life force. Don’t use it against me. Promise to give it back to him, and I’ll come with you willingly.”

Anger flared up in Michael again. “You ripped your lover’s life force out of him to fight us?”

“He insisted.” Lucifer shrugged. “What can I say? He’s become quite attached.”

Raphael made a small, disbelieving sound.

Michael shook his head. “That’s low, even for you. Using someone’s feeling to get something like that. You know, for a while I thought you maybe actually cared about him.” He should’ve probably known better.

That made Lucifer’s features go hard. “I don’t care what you think of me. Do I have your word that you’ll return to him what’s his?”

“Look at him,” Raphael murmured, sounding surprised. “He’s genuinely worried.”

Yes, Lucifer looked actually worried, but anger, fire and Michael’s orders demanded that this didn’t change anything, almost drowning out the memory of Dean’s siren song. “If he really cared,” Michael snapped. “He shouldn’t have used the person he cared about to power his spells.”

Then he turned to Lucifer. “You have our word,” he said. Maybe it was just another distraction, just a way to play for time to whatever end that might be. But they’d taken enough from the Winchesters as it was. “Now send your beast away, shed all of your weapons and come here.”

When the undead Basilisk took flight and Lucifer’s dagger clattered to the floor, Michael still expected a trap. 

When Lucifer was on his knees, bound by iron and magic, Michael still expected a trap. But there was also the growing feeling that something wasn’t right here.

“Why didn’t you let Raphael die and take me on one on one?” he asked. “With that beast of yours you would’ve stood a chance.”

Lucifer spat. “I rebelled so none of you had to die. He won’t make me kill my siblings now.”

That again. Though now it sounded less unlikely.

But Father couldn’t have lied to them all their life, could he?

“I’ll take Sam Winchester’s life force back to him,” Raphael said.

Michael nodded. Now that the destructive forces of the spell had dissipated it shouldn’t be a problem for any of them to carry that amount of energy by themselves. And Michael wasn’t very keen on facing Dean Winchester’s disappointment again.

“I’ll keep watch over Lucifer,” he said.

Lucifer grinned. “I’m so looking forward to the opportunity to catch up.”

“Shut up!” Michael snapped at him. He needed time to think.

Or maybe it was better to just bury all his thoughts and doubts at the same place where everything else had gone since Lucifer’s betrayal. Where he didn’t have to acknowledge any of it.

He was the good son after all. He carried responsibilities. He had his orders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Meg is fine!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which something important is returned, but Sam still doesn't get a break.

The guards came to fetch Dean long before the lone figure reached the castle doors. It was Raphael, that much was easy to tell from the battlements. There was no one else around with a robe and a staff like that.

“Where’s Michael?” Dean was a bit disappointed about not seeing the other mage, but he shoved that feeling down as fast as it reared its head.

“Where’s Lucifer?” Next to Dean, Sam reached for his sword.

Dean placed a hand on his younger brother’s arm. “Calm down. You stay here. I’ll go investigate.”

“Dean!” Sam protested, but Dean had enough. He got it, he really got it, but Sam was supposed to be the level headed one of them both. He really had to get his shit together.

Dean turned to his brother, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Listen to me, Sammy. We don’t know what happened. Maybe that guy … or girl ... or whatever is specifically here to grab you to get an edge over your evil necromancer lover. So you stay put and you don’t make a fuss or I swear to all the gods I’ll throw you into the dungeon until this is over! Are we clear?”

He could see the muscles in Sam’s jaw working. There was also a small cut on Sam’s forehead and an even smaller one over Sam’s throat. They hadn’t been there yesterday, and Dean was pretty sure they were Lucifer’s fault even though he couldn’t prove it. The necromancer was definitely in for an asswhooping, if he got back.

Finally Sam nodded.

“Good.” Dean turned towards the steps that lead down from the battlements. “Charlie, Kevin, Adam, Jo and Ellen with me. Bobby and Benny, you stay here and look out for Sam.”

“I’m not a child, Dean!”

“No, right now you’re a lovesick idiot.” Dean took a deep breath. “Open the doors!”

* * *

They met Raphael outside the castle walls. No way he’d let the mage inside again. Dean listened to the story they – and that pronoun gave Dean a headache, but at least it worked – had to tell about Lucifer using Sam’s fucking life force to power a spell. Suddenly Dean wished the necromancer hadn’t lost this fight, solely on the basis that he wanted to kick his ass personally. No matter if Sam had asked him to do this (and seeing how Sam acted recently that was very likely, Dean had to give Lucifer that), you don’t go around agreeing to Sam’s stupid ideas like that.

“You’re here to give it back?” Adam asked finally. He sounded way too fascinated. Did all of Dean’s younger brothers have to have a thing for magic?

Raphael nodded. “It’s an easy process, and as soon as it’s done you won’t see any of us again.”

“You’re not getting near Sam!” Dean decided. It could still be a trap, the whole story about Sam giving away his life force could as well be a lie.

A pained expression flitted over the androgynous face. Raphael rubbed their temples with slender fingers, but finally they sighed. “We’re doing this out of goodwill. We could’ve just left with your brother’s life force. I’m only here, because Lucifer specifically asked us ...” They stopped, shaking their head. “Nevermind.” A fucking mage wasn’t supposed to look so lost, but it only held for a heartbeat anyway, then Raphael straightened up again. “If there’s someone here with at least a small talent for magic, I can pass it on via them.”

Raphael looked into what Dean knew were probably all blank faces, sighted again and pointed at Adam. “Yours will do.”

Hell no, did both of his younger brothers really have to have a thing for magic? For a moment Dean was tempted to tell Adam no. But if Lucifer really had taken who knows how many years of Sam’s life, they desperately needed them back. And Adam didn’t wait for Dean’s approval anyway, he just stepped forward. They’d have to talk about that.

“Charlie,” Dean said, just in case. The redhead didn’t need any other orders. She pulled an arrow from her quiver and put it on the string of her bow, not drawing it back yet. They waited.

There was a murmured conversation between Raphael and Adam, their heads just a tad too close together for Dean’s liking. After a moment Raphael took Adam’s hand. Dean wasn’t sure, if anything actually happened, but finally Raphael nodded, while Adam looked a bit dazed. “Leave it to one part of the soul to find its way back to the rest of it.” Then the mage turned and walked away.

“Want me to put an arrow in his … her … whatever … back?” Charlie asked. “Take them out, then go find the other one and free Sam’s love?”

“They’re mages,” Kevin said, squinting at the leaving figure. “Might just make them angry.”

He had a point there. “I’m not risking the safety of any of you for Lucifer,” Dean decided. He owed the necromancer, but the others didn’t and they were his responsibility. If anyone was going to do anything about Lucifer being a captive, it was him. Alone. “Let’s see how that thing with the life force works.”

* * *

The thing with the life force didn’t seem to be hard. Adam just grabbed Sam’s hand, like Raphael had instructed him to, and his life force apparently remembered where it belonged. Sam gasped and seemed to stand taller all of a sudden. He had looked a bit worn out before, Dean noticed now.

The bad thing about this was that Sam promptly put his newly won energy into calling for his horse and preparing to take off. Dean caught his shoulder. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What does it look like?” Sam snapped. “Getting my lover back.”

“The hell you will!”

Sam turned towards Dean, anger in his face. “You owe him, Dean! And now you’ll just leave him hanging like that?” He looked at Dean, searching for something in his face. “Look, I get you’re angry about the thing with the life force, but I talked him into that. He didn’t want to at first. And you can chew my head off about it, when I get back, but right now I have to hurry!”

“No, you won’t.” Dean motioned to Benny, who was still standing nearby, and the knight stepped closer.

“What are you planning to do about it, Dean?” Sam sneered. “Actually throw me in the dungeon?”

“Actually, that sounds like a good plan.” A nod to Benny, and the knight’s hands landed on Sam’s shoulders. “You stay here, Sammy. I’ll take care of this.”

Sam fought, and in the end it took Benny, Ellen and Bobby to hold him back. There were tears streaming down Sam’s face. “Dean, please!”

Dean’s heart broke seeing his brother like that. No matter how much he didn’t like Lucifer, he really had to get the necromancer back for Sam. What else was he supposed to do? Keep Sam locked up? For how long? Until after Lucifer was sentenced to death as he seemed to think he would be? And even then, Sam might still be out for revenge. “I’ll get him back for you, Sammy,” Dean promised. “But your head isn’t in the game right now, and they’d probably kill you on sight. I got this, alright? I promise.”

But Sam still tried to get free, when they dragged him away, shouting at them to let him go. Damn those mages, all of them!

Dean took a deep breath and turned to Adam, who looked a bit shaken himself. His youngest brother looked at him skeptically. “Are you really going to face them alone, Dean? In case you haven’t noticed, they’re powerful mages, two of them.”

“Well, thanks for mentioning that, Adam. I’d almost forgotten,” Dean snarked. “But what good do you think more of us will do, hm?”

Adam shrugged as if he wanted to say: ‘Good point.’ “So you decided to just get yourself killed?” he asked.

“No. I’ll need something that’ll put a grown man to sleep. Can you get me that?”

Dean knew that Adam always planted herbs in the castle garden and knew quite a lot about using them. His youngest brother nodded.

“And a wineskin,” Dean added. “And then let’s hope Michael really likes me and doesn’t kill me on sight.”

Adam grinned as it dawned on him what Dean was planning. “I’ll have everything ready for you in half an hour.”

“Good.” Dean turned to a stable boy. “Saddle my horse!” he called.

And if his heart beat a bit faster at the thought of seeing Michael again, he was sure it was just nervousness. Who knew, if his plan would work, after all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's some conspiring going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer than usual. I had to catch up on the newest episode first.

Dean caught up to the mages by noon. They were walking at a brisk pace, Lucifer with bound hands between them. Dean didn’t try to hide his approach. Instead he slowed his horse down to make himself appear less like a threat and waited for them to spot him.

Raphael turned their head first. The mage said something Dean couldn’t understand, then Michael and Lucifer looked around, too. Dean could’ve sworn Lucifer rolled his eyes. Michael drew his sword.

Dean stopped his horse in front of them and jumped out of the saddle. He lifted both hands to show that he wasn’t out for a fight (Even though his sword hung from his belt. He wasn’t stupid enough to come here unarmed.), but the next moment he had the tip of Michael’s sword at his throat anyway. Looking at him over the length of a blade the mage appeared even more attractive than this morning. Probably the way his eyes were dark with anger.

“Dean Winchester, how often do I have to tell you not to interfere?”

All his plans for a friendly approach vanished at the arrogance of that question, and he met the gaze with anger to match. He was the ruler of this land, however small it may be! “You interfered with my affairs quite a bit since yesterday, and today I had to lock my brother up in the castle dungeons to keep him from following you. So until you’re off my land, I’ll keep a close eye on you to make sure you’re not causing any more trouble.”

“You and what army?” Raphael asked. But even through his anger Dean saw it as a meager attempt at being haughty. Something was bothering the mage, they looked lost in thought. Dean couldn’t tell what it was, though.

Michael didn’t say anything, just looked at him without lowering his sword. Instead it was Lucifer who spoke. “How’s Sam?”

The question just fanned Dean’s anger more. “What do you think how he is, idiot? Fucking heartbroken, that’s what he is! Bawling his eyes out probably right this minute!” Without paying the sharp edge at his throat any heed he glared at the necromancer. “How could you dare lose this fight?”

Lucifer glared back, took a half step forward, before Raphael pulled him back by his shoulder. “Well, a certain puppy eyed knight asked me not to kill any people from your village and that limited my options quite a bit. Now I wish I had just slaughtered them all. Would’ve broken his heart, too, but at least he would’ve been disappointed enough to let me go and stay safe!”

The silence after that outburst seemed to echo a bit. Dean felt his anger fizzle and die. Damn. Sam could never learn about that.

After a moment Michael lowered his sword and put it back into the sheath. “Keep your distance from Lucifer.” He sounded tired. Not like someone who had just triumphed in a fight. There was no doubt he wasn’t happy about any of this. Maybe there was still a way to get through to him? When Michael turned away, Dean took a step forward and reached for him. “Michael ...”

Several things happened at once. 

Raphael grabbed Lucifer harder and pulled him away from them. Michael turned and his fingers closed around Dean’s wrist in a surprisingly strong grip. He lifted the free hand as if to strike and flames sprang to life around his fist.

For a moment Dean’s heart seemed to stop. He’d messed up. A deadly mistake possibly. He held his breath, trying not to make any more sudden movements. If Michael wanted to kill him, he was dead. That much was for sure. The mage didn’t strike, but the flames kept flickering angrily around his fingers, eyes blazing. “No!” he said. “I will not listen to your siren song again!”

Siren song, eh? So he had been getting through to Michael? At least a little bit? Dean forced himself to relax, even though his heart was hammering hard now. He licked his upper lip, half nerves, half testing Michael’s reaction, and saw the mage’s eyes tracking the movement. Oh yes, he had been getting through to him on more than one level. So instead of trying to get away, he leaned closer. “Just think about it, then.”

The flames grew smaller and died. “Stay away from Lucifer,” Michael said again. Then he let go of Dean and turned away.

* * *

They made him keep a distance of several strides. Michael stayed with Lucifer, and Raphael walked next to Dean’s horse, giving him sidelong glances now and then. Dean stared sullenly at Michael’s admittedly very shapely backside. He was almost sure that the mage was actively avoiding him. Was he so afraid of Dean talking him out of what he perceived to be his duty?

“Whatever your plan is,” Raphael’s low voice said next to him all of a sudden, “if you can’t convince Michael to let this be, he’ll always pick up Lucifer’s track again. If my oldest brother commits to something, he commits to it all the way.”

Surprised, Dean turned his head. Raphael didn’t look at him, but Dean was sure he hadn’t imagined what he had just heard.

“And you don’t?” Dean asked in the same low voice. The wineskin Adam had given him hung at his saddle. If he could find an opportunity to share its contents with Michael, he’d fall asleep in minutes. And if there was no other way to get him to back off, a blade through the heart should do the trick then, even though that thought hurt almost physically. And it might make Lucifer angry, which would kind of defeat the purpose.

If Michael would just listen instead! But apparently being a stubborn pain in the ass was a family trait – well, adopted family trait.

For a moment, Raphael didn’t answer. Then the mage shook their head slowly. “What Lucifer just said … Does he really honor your brother’s requests?”

“Usually.” Dean had never thought about it that much. Lucifer always complained, when Sam asked him to be considerate of other people. He always made it look like it was such a hassle to do things the more complicated and less murderous way and that he only did it because most of the time his personal safety or goals weren’t at stake. So naturally Dean had assumed he’d drop all restraint as soon as it was convenient. That Sam could make him go against his own instinct for self-preservation, that was impressive work from Sam’s side, if Dean was honest.

Raphael seemed to share the sentiment. They stared ahead at Lucifer, then finally turned their head to look at Dean. “I won’t let you kill Michael.”

Dean felt traitorous relief at that. Maybe sending Lucifer and Sam away would be enough, even with Michael on their heels? The herbs in the wine would buy them a few hours headstart, and it still beat having to keep Sam locked up in the dungeon. And maybe Michael would come to his senses eventually. He nodded. “I can work with that.”

Raphael’s whole posture seemed to relax. “What do you need, then?”

“More time”, Dean said. “And for Michael to stop avoiding me.” He sighed. “So basically a miracle, I guess.”

The was the hint of a smile on Raphael’s lips now. “On the way here I saw a small hunting lodge not far ahead. Is that your land or the neighbours?”

“Our land.” Dean regarded the mage curiously. “What are you thinking of?”

Raphael’s smile grew. “I’m a mage. You’ll get something close to a miracle. I just have to be careful so Michael won’t realizes it was me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ... what do you think of Raphael so far?


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a big revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Askatosch drew them all walking in the rain, and it's super epic and looks like they're off to throw the one ring into Mount Doom or something like that. [Look at it here.](https://askatosch.tumblr.com/post/170831945339/attempt-on-scenery-drawing-based-on)

It didn’t take long until it started to rain. At first it was just a few drops here and there and Michael pressed on, but soon it was a steady downpour and Dean took a cloak from the small pack he’d brought. It soaked through fast, when the rain grew stronger.

Dean threw Raphael a suspicious glance and was met with a hint of a smile. Cunning bastard.

Michael cursed and stopped, gripping Lucifer’s arm hard and waiting for Dean and Raphael to catch up. The necromancer looked completely drenched by now since he didn’t have a cloak. Michael on the other hand had a hood pulled over his head. He pulled it back a little and stared up at Dean with a sullen face. “Is there a place where we can sit this out?”

Dean nodded. “There’s a hunting lodge nearby.” He’d have to thank Raphael properly later.

* * *

Dean was the last to step into the lodge, because he had to take care of his horse first, get it into the small stable, dry it off and leave it with food and water. When he finally entered, there was a fire going in the fireplace in the only room. Lucifer was sitting next to it and complaining loudly. “At least get them off long enough so I can get out of most of the wet clothes.” He thrust his shackled hands into Michael’s direction, who was surprisingly dry already again. “What are you afraid of, Michael? I need blood for my magic, and I don’t have any weapons on me!”

Michael didn’t look happy at all. “I remember that one time very well when you bit your tongue to spew a curse at Malachy.”

Lucifer shrugged. “Yes, well, point taken. He deserved that for being a dick to you.”

For a moment there was something like a sad smile on Michael’s face, then his features hardened again and he shook his head.

“I can rework the bindings so he can’t use his magic but has his hands free,” Raphael interrupted them, before Michael could say any more. Two sets of eyes, one dark brown, one icy blue looked pleadingly at Michael.

The oldest mage sighed. “Fine. Do it. Don’t take your eyes off him, though.”

When Dean stepped closer to the fire, Michael turned to him. Two steps, then Michael put a hand on Dean’s chest, steering him away from the fire to the other side of the room. “I said stay away from Lucifer, remember?”

Dean frowned at him. “So I’m not allowed to get dry.”

Another sigh, and then Michael lifted his hand, flames flickering along his fingers. “I can help with that.”

Hurriedly Dean took another step back, bumping into the cabin wall. “Woah! I said dry, not crispy!”

The hint of a smile pulled on the corners of Michael’s lips, while the flames died down to just the air above his hand shimmering with heat. Oh so that’s how he had gotten dry so fast. Slowly, he extended his hand, and Dean exhaled, forcing himself to relax. If Michael wanted to kill him, he could do so any minute anyway.

When Michael’s fingertips were a few inches from his face, Dean could feel the heat coming off of them. After the cold rain it felt like a blessing. Dean leaned into the touch that was almost a bit too hot, felt Michael’s finger ghost over his temple and up into his hair. Dean couldn’t help but make a small content sound, and if he was honest he didn’t even try to suppress it.

“Get rid of the cloak.” Michael’s voice was low and his face was close enough that Dean could feel his breath on his skin. He had both of his hands in Dean’s hair by now, and Dean’s heart was beating fast with happiness. He was allowed to be happy about this. The more Michael seeked him out, the easier it’d be to do what he came here for. Just offer him some wine later or maybe even still convince him to let his brother go.

So what if Dean enjoyed the touch way too much? If he couldn’t help himself and threw Michael a cocky grin while he opened the clasp of his cloak to let it slide from his shoulders. “Anything else?”

Michael’s fingers curled into a fist around the hair in the nape of Dean’s neck. The heat got almost painful there, and Dean tensed.

“I won’t change my mind, because you flirt with me,” Michael said.

“I know. If that would work, we wouldn’t be here at all and instead still back in the castle having way more fun than we’re having right now.” Dean shrugged. He also probably would have respected Michael a lot less. He actually understood the stubbornness and he would be damned, if he didn’t get why it was hard to trust Lucifer. Though by now the evidence in the necromancer’s favor should be pretty overwhelming.

“But if you’re honest to yourself, you’re already mostly convinced that Lucifer is innocent, are you?” Dean pulled a face. Lucifer and innocent in one sentence was hard to get out with a straight face. “Well, not in general, of course. You know what I mean.”

That made the corners of Michael’s mouth twitch again. He let go of Dean’s hair and fanned both hands out over Dean’s shoulders, heat seeping through the wet fabric of his overcoat and shirt.

“He could’ve won against you,” Dean added, voice maybe a bit husky for completely different reasons, “if he could’ve stood the thought of making Sam unhappy.”

“I think a court should decide about him being guilty or not.” The short spark of amusement hadn’t held for long. Instead Michael looked troubled, visibly torn now. Like it just needed a tiny bit more to finally push him to a change of mind.

“Michael, I’ve told you before –” Lucifer’s voice came from the other side of the room, but was suddenly muffled.

“Shh,” Raphael said, “Dean is doing a better job than you.”

Dean kept his eyes on Michael, though, whose hands slowly traveled down his chest. Damn, if the circumstances were just a bit different. “If you want a court, we have one here that’s probably less biased.”

“Do you happen to be the judge by chance?”

Dean shrugged and nodded.

Michael cocked his head to the side and regarded him with a curious look. “Doesn’t seem less biased to me.”

Dean clenched his teeth in frustration. But then it occurred to him that Michael had just admitted that his father was most likely biased, that dragging Lucifer home might kill him even if he was innocent. That was a start, wasn’t it? “Listen,” he tried again, “I have a brother back home who’ll stop at nothing to get his necromancer back, and he’ll probably get himself killed in the process. And if it comes to that, I won’t let him die alone. So if you keep hiding behind orders, you’re not only dragging your own brother to his death, but you can as well kill me now and then go back to the castle and end Sam next. And everybody who’s stupid enough to try and protect him. It’d only be a matter of time anyway.”

“I’m not hiding behind orders.” Michael avoided Dean’s eyes now, though, busying himself with opening the buttons of Dean’s overcoat. Oh, how much he wished for the circumstance to be different. “Get rid of the layers. I can get everything dry better, if there are no layers.”

With a sigh Dean helped with the buttons. Their fingers brushed on the last one, and suddenly Michael looked up again, his eyes full of sadness. When he spoke again, his voice was low. “I admire your loyalty to your family, Dean. I wish things could be different.”

“They could be, if you weren’t so fucking –” Dean started.

“They could be, if you weren’t so fucking stubborn!” interrupted Lucifer’s voice from the direction of the fireplace. 

For a moment, Michael just stopped. The only thing that moved was his head, as he looked from Dean to Lucifer and back. He pressed his lips together, obviously fighting with himself.

Abruptly, Michael turned. He stalked towards Lucifer and grabbed him by his collar. There were still shackles around Lucifer’s wrists, but no chain between them anymore, they just reflected the light of the fire in a weird way. The necromancer allowed himself to be pulled up by his brother, staring at him defiantly.

“Lucifer, swear that you love that man’s brother as much as he loves you.” Michael pointed at Dean.

“I’m as head over heels for him as you’re for Dean,” Lucifer gave back.

“Raphael?” Michael looked at his sibling.

The other mage gave a shrug. “He’s already convinced me. He’s telling the truth.”

Dean held his breath again, waiting for a decision, waiting for the stubbornness to finally break. Additionally Michael just hadn’t denied to be in love with Dean or at least something close to that. And that took Dean’s breath away in a completely different way.

“Fine.” Michael broke the spell by letting go of Lucifer, who fought for his balance for a moment. “In that case I’m taking suggestions how to resolve this.” With that he pulled up his left sleeve and revealed something that Dean couldn’t see from his position. Curious he stepped closer.

Lucifer cursed, while Raphael scowled. “You took a Shadow Oath?” Lucifer asked, shock in his voice.

Now Dean could see the mark on Michael’s arm, looking like it was branded there.

“It was the only way to get him to promise a trial for you,” Michael gave back heatedly. “He wanted to send us to just kill you at first. I pleaded with him for days! When he finally allowed it, I had to swear to bring you back to him no matter what you told me.”

Another curse from Lucifer.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Raphael asked.

“What difference would it have made? I made sure it wouldn’t harm you.”

Apparently, they weren’t going to provide answers by themselves soon, so Dean cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt the big revelation, but what’s a Shadow Oath?”

“Something Amara invented,” Lucifer said, face dark.

“It has devastating effects, if you don’t keep it,” Raphael added. “Not necessarily only on yourself.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a lot of magic and things don't look too good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ends in a cliffhanger, just in case you want to wait until I post the next one.
> 
> Also, I hope y'all remember the "past Michifer" tag, because it becomes relevant here.

A while later found them all sitting on a fur rug in front of the fireplace. Their boots were lined up as close to the flames as possible right next to Michael’s armor. Their cloaks and Dean’s overcoat hung over the few chairs that were part of the lodges furniture. Lucifer had his hands extended towards the flames to warm them, the metal around his wrists gleaming in the firelight. Dean was pretty sure there was some kind of magic in the cuffs, and they apparently really did suppress his abilities.

Meanwhile, Michael was busy taking the ribbon out of Raphael’s long hair that had tied it up into a knot, and carded his hands through the strands to get them dry. For a moment Dean could actually imagine them as children, growing up together, taking care of each other. He could see Lucifer steal glances towards them now and then, the hint of a sad smile on his face.

“Tell me the words of your oath exactly,” Lucifer said after a while.

Michael didn’t look up from Raphael’s hair and said something in a language Dean had never heard before.

It made Raphael take notice. “Romantic love?”

“Does Father know about …?” Lucifer asked, letting the sentence hang unfinished.

Dean looked between them with narrowed eyes. What was that about?

Michael still didn’t look up. “I think so. Maybe he thought finding you would rekindle something. So he took precaution against that.”

Wait ... Dean looked from one to the other again. No, that couldn’t be. Still, he found himself saying: “Please tell me there never was any kind of romantic love between you two.”

Lucifer grinned. “Don’t worry, I’m no competition. I’m very happy with Sam.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “There was a short and very …” He pause as if looking for the right word.

“Passionate.” Lucifer’s grin grew wider.

“I was going to say misguided ...” Michael corrected with a disgruntled look. “Well … liaison. It didn’t work out and we agreed that we work better as brothers.” Another pause. “In the figurative sense since we’re not actually related.”

“Well, apparently you still like tying me up, though.” Lucifer lifted his hands to show the metal cuffs, now a bit grumpy himself.

That was definitely more than Dean had wanted to know, and by the groan Raphael gave, the mage agreed.

“And there I thought you had good taste, Michael,” Dean grumbled. He didn’t know what threw him off more, that they had started something even though they had grown up as brothers – actually related or not – or that of all people Michael had chosen Lucifer.

His comment got him an amused look from Michael. “You and him have a lot in common.”

He and the necromancer? No way! “We don’t!” Dean protested.

“We don’t!” Lucifer protested at the same time.

Still, Michael had just confirmed again that he was interested, and as soon as that sank in, Dean’s heart sped up. It should by far be the least of his worries, but he couldn’t help it. No matter past affairs.

“Can we get back to the point where you swore a Shadow Oath that’s going to kill you and the person you love, if you break it?” Raphael said.

That piece of information slammed into Dean like a particularly pissed off bull during the harvest festival. “It’s going to kill you?” No wonder Michael had been so reluctant to change his mind.

“And you,” Lucifer looked between Dean and Michael. “Unless I’m thoroughly mistaken. But I didn’t hear any protests so far.”

Michael shook his head and turned fully towards Dean. “I’m sorry.”

Despite the less than good news Dean’s heart sped up another notch. He leaned forward. “And there I was wondering, if you really liked me.”

Michael gave an apologetic smile. “Your unwillingness to back down impressed me. I don’t know how the mark distinguishes it and if my feelings are already strong enough to count, but there is a risk.”

“If that isn’t the least romantic declaration of love I’ve ever gotten,” Dean said, happiness fighting with worry inside him, making a heavy knot in his stomach. At least, if it came to the worst, there was a solution for Sam’s problem now. “So we just have to die for our little brothers to be happy? Sounds doable.”

Michael chuckled and nodded. “If nothing else works.”

Lucifer groaned. “Good to know you two fools fit so well together. But I may have a solution that doesn’t involve stupidly heroic death.”

Dean turned to look at the necromancer at the same time as Michael let finally go of Raphael’s hair and did the same. It sounded almost too good to be true.

Lucifer shrugged. “No promises, but I didn’t study directly under Amara for nothing, did I? I need my magic, though.”

Well that sounded a bit more realistic already.

For a moment Michael looked at Lucifer through narrowed eyes. “If you run –”

There was a heavy sigh, then Raphael grabbed their staff and touched it to the cuffs around Lucifer’s wrists. They lost their weird shine and fell to the floor.

“Raphael!” Michael reached for his sword that lay next to him on the rug. Dean was a tad bit faster, though. His hand landed on the hilt a second before Michael’s, and he met the mage’s eyes as he scowled at him.

“He won’t run,” Dean said without breaking eye contact. “Right, Lucifer?”

“He saved my life, Michael.” Raphael sounded so annoyed that Dean couldn’t help but turn towards them. The shoulder length hair still hanging open made them look a bit more feminine, but Dean’s mind had mostly given up on sorting the mage in a category by now. “He won’t run,” Raphael added.

“See, Michael.” Lucifer rubbed his wrists, looking pleased with himself. “Some people actually trust me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Dean said.

That made the corners of Michael’s mouth twitch again. For a moment longer his hand lay warm over Dean’s, then he pulled it back, leaving Dean with the impulse to grab it just to reestablish contact somehow.

Michael turned to Lucifer. “So you know how to remove the oath without anyone dying?”

“Well,” Lucifer started, and that didn’t sound good at all. “I know how to remove it.”

Amazing how the necromancer managed to go from giving someone hope to making everybody even more concerned. “That’s not the part we’re most worried about,” Dean said.

Lucifer gave an almost apologetically shrug. “It’ll still try to kill you, because nothing Amara designed has ever been not as nasty as possible, but you’ll have a fighting chance.”

Granted, that was better than no chance. Dean looked at Michael, who met his gaze with a question in his eyes.

“I’ll take it,” Dean said.

Michael smiled, then he nodded to Lucifer. “Anything about what to expect?”

The Necromancer ran his tongue along his upper lip in thought. “Well, Amara tried it once, and the man didn’t die, but he went insane. It attacks mind and body. Concentrate on your mind, we’ll try and keep your bodies safe.” He looked at Raphael, who nodded in the middle of tying their hair into a knot again.

“Any more questions?” Lucifer asked.

Dean shook his head. This was a huge mess, but no matter how it ended, at least Sammy would be safe. He just really wished Sam had found a nice girl somewhere. Or a guy that wasn’t a murderous necromancer hunted by his own family. But that probably would’ve been too boring for Sam.

“Good,” Lucifer went on. “In that case I take blood donations now.”

Dean was about to volunteer – if Sam could do this, he could, too – when a thought occurred to him. What if they died? He’d die right next to one of the most gorgeous men he’d ever seen and who was apparently in love with him without even having kissed him yet.

“Wait!” he said.

All three mages looked at him. “Second thoughts?” Lucifer asked.

“No.” Dean looked at Michael, though. “I was just thinking, we might be dead pretty soon.”

Michael tilted his head to the side in question. “Possibly.”

Dean leaned forward a bit. “So this might be our last chance …”

Lucifer made a sound that was the best verbal representation of an eyeroll Dean had ever heard, but it ended in a rustle of clothes and a hiss and a whispered “Let them have a moment” from Raphael.

Neither Dean nor Michael looked at them. Michael hesitated just a moment longer, then he was the one to close the gap. His hand found its way to the nape of Dean’s neck to pull him closer, and then their lips met.

It was hesitant at first as if Michael wasn’t sure, if he really was allowed to do this. So to make things as clear as possible Dean grabbed the the front of Michael’s shirt and swept his tongue over the seam of Michael’s lips, asking for entrance. Michael’s lips parted slightly, his fingers curled into the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck, and Dean deepened the kiss. Now Michael became more secure, too, but kept it slow and careful, as if he wanted to savor this moment for as long as possible.

When they separated, there was the brightest smile on Michael’s face that Dean had ever seen, and the firelight danced in his eyes. “Ready?” he asked.

Dean smiled back. “Ready.”

* * *

Lucifer cut Dean’s arm first, then Raphael’s, then his own, but shook his head when Michael offered too. “You’re the problem. Can’t use yours.”

Dean watched the blood trickle out of the cut, but instead of dripping to the floor, it started to rise like smoke. Lucifer beckoned it towards him, and Dean felt a pull as some of the blood still in his veins tried to follow the call too. He shuddered. How Sam put up with creepy things like that was a mystery to him.

“The mark,” Lucifer said.

Michael pulled his sleeve up and revealed the mark that the oath had left. Their combined blood collected in a swirl above it, changing form while Lucifer’s eyes started to glow in such a bright blue that it looked almost white. The next moment the cloud of bloody smoke settled and seeped into the mark.

Michael screamed.

“Oh yes,” Lucifer said, grabbing Michael’s wrist to keep him from pulling his arm back. “I forgot to mention that.”

“Bastard,” Michael ground out through gritted teeth. Dean was inclined to agree.

Lucifer gave a thin smile. “You made my knight miserable, because you were too stubborn to believe me in the first place. If you survive this, consider us even.”

Well, Lucifer had a point there.

Michael folded into himself, fingers of his free hand digging into the fur rug he was still sitting on. Next to him Dean was clutching his sword, waiting for some kind of attack, wishing for anything else to do then watch Michael suffer. On his other side Raphael watched with concern written all over their face.

“Lucifer,” they said all of a sudden. “There’s something trapped inside the mark!”

“Yes.” Lucifer was still holding onto Michael’s arm. “That’s what kills you, if you don’t keep your oath. I’m trying to squish as much of it as possible while ripping it out.”

Dean watched the mark that seemed to be slowly peeling off Michael’s arm like a coating of dried blood. Black smoke poured out from under it. Most of it diffused like mist in the sun, but some of it lingered. How were they supposed to fight this? With magic, of course, but Dean didn’t have any of that.

“Dean.” Raphael reached around Michael and Dean took the offered hand without thinking. As soon as their fingertips touched, a shock zapped through his arm, making him draw his hand back with a gasp.

“Hey! What was that?”

Raphael gave a half-smile. “A bit of extra protection tailored to what I can see in there.” They nodded towards the smoke. “But iron should hurt it, too.”

Then Michael suddenly collapsed. Dean caught his shoulders only a moment before he landed face first on the floor.

“You alright?” he asked, while Lucifer and Raphael were both getting up.

Michael nodded, cradling the arm where the mark had been to his chest. His breathing came in ragged gasps, but it evened out with every breath. After a moment he sat up again. Then he looked up towards the ceiling as if he sensed something there. “Oh.”

When Dean followed his gaze, he cursed. The ceiling of the hunting lodge wasn’t visible anymore. Instead there was nothing but black smoke, swirling and moving as if of its own will.

Raphael shouted something, and a lightning bolt zapped up and into the cloud. It got swallowed by darkness fast, but the smoke swirled away from it too, towards the walls. There it slowly sank down until it reached the ground, blocking the bit of light that came through the windows almost completely, but avoiding the fireplace as if it was afraid of the flames.

“Lucifer,” Dean said, trying to sound casual but probably failing, “I think you missed quite a lot of it, when you tried to squish it.”

The necromancer scoffed. “Oh, believe me, this is just a fraction of what is was before.”

Dean shuddered. He got to his feet now, too, pulling Michael with him. As soon as he was sure the mage didn’t need any support, he let go of him and drew his sword. Next to him, Michael did the same. Automatically Dean moved so his back was to Michael, both of them giving the other cover. It felt natural as if they had fought like this many times before.

Then Dean spotted a new kind of movement in the smoke. There were figures inside it, forming and breaking apart again. Dean saw teeth and claws and fangs.

“I really wish I had my basilisk,” Lucifer said.

Then the smoke rushed towards them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a lot of liberties with the darkness and the mark. I basically just used the familiar images to do my own thing, tbh. Hope you like it anyway.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they fight the darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the late update! My only excuse is that I totally forgot what day it is.

Darkness surged towards Dean like a living being. He lifted his sword, even though he wasn’t sure what good that’d do. But Raphael had said iron would hurt the thing, that was what he clung to.

Without talking about it, they’d taken up position so that they covered all four directions. Michael at his back, Lucifer to his left, Raphael to his right. At his back Dean could feel heat that was far more than just body warmth, Michael probably summoning his fire. Dean wasn’t sure what Lucifer was doing except that he held a knife in his hand. And to his right, lightning crackled.

The darkness parted before Raphael like a river flowing around a rock. The next thing Dean knew was that a pitch black tendril surged towards him. He swung his sword, didn’t feel any kind of resistance, but watched the black thing crumble like it was made of sand and smoke.

He barely had time for triumph, though. Shadowy claws grabbed at him, shadowy teeth tried to sink into his flesh. Soon enough, the darkness almost completely blocked the light from the fireplace. It seemed to block out sounds, too. A moment ago he’d still heard the others fight, now there was barely anything except for his own breathing.

Then the attacks stopped.

Confused, Dean looked around, but there was nothing. Nothing but darkness and eerie silence.

“Michael?” he called. “Lucifer?”

No answer.

“Raphael?”

The darkness seemed to swallow his voice.

What did Lucifer say? The thing will drive you insane? Maybe that was what this was. But how was he supposed to fight it?

“Michael?”

“Dean!” For a moment Dean thought what he heard was Michael’s voice, but then a different familiar figure stepped out of the darkness.

“Father?”

John Winchester looked him over, disappointment in his eyes. “Now look at you, Dean. Working with mages.”

The words hurt, like it always did when he didn’t meet his father’s expectations.

“Didn’t I teach you anything?” John went on. “You don’t trust magic users. Your mother did, and see what it got her.”

Dean had never heard the whole story about that, all he’d gathered was that her dying in childbirth hadn’t been a completely natural thing. Maybe he should’ve asked about it, like Sam had, but in the end it hadn’t done Sam any good. Except for making their father angry. The thought of Sam, though, fueled defiance in Dean. “I’m trying to protect Sam and Adam, as you told me to.”

“Protect?” John Winchester took an angry step forward. “You call letting Sam fall in bed with a necromancer protecting him?”

“Said necromancer helped us more than once! And you allowed him to live on our land in the first place.” Dean already knew he was going to lose this argument, he always did.

“You know why I did that, son?” Another step forward. “Because we needed someone to keep other mages out, and I figured the people of the village would have enough common sense to stay away from a necromancer. With other mages they might have tried to befriend them.” Another step. “But of course Sam had to do it anyway. I told you, he’d be trouble.”

“Sammy’s fine!” Dean protested.

“He isn’t and you know it. He’s getting out of hand, dabbling in dark magic. If he continues that path, soon you’ll have to take him out.” John was only one step away from him now, and Dean knew that commanding tone of voice. The one that allowed no argument. The one that had always made him go “Yes sir!” in the past.

But his father was asking him to kill Sam, and Dean had to think of Michael who had just refused to kill his own little brother, who’d just chosen his brother over his father’s orders. If Lucifer was worthy of that, why should Sam dabbling in magic of whatever kind mean anything worse? Even though Dean didn’t like the idea one bit.

“No,” he said.

“What did you just say?” John Winchester seemed to grow in size, tower over him like he’d done when Dean had been younger.

Dean swallowed. “No.”

John Winchester’s face twisted into anger and then into something inhuman. He reached out for Dean – and lightning zapped from Dean’s fingertips towards him. Dean felt the shock in his arm like he had when Raphael had touched him. The next moment the energy hit his father and John Winchester exploded into smoke and dust.

Dean shook his head, suddenly realizing that this of course couldn’t have been his real father. John Winchester was dead and buried, but for a moment it had seemed plausible that he was here. If it hadn’t been for the bit of lightning that Raphael had given him ... Dean didn’t even want to think about it. He would have to think of a very expensive gift for the mage as soon as all of this was over.

So this was how the darkness tried to drive you insane, hm? Dean looked around again. Still nothing but blackness around him. Whatever this was, it wasn’t over yet. He wondered, though, if he was alone in this strange place or if Michael was here somewhere, too?

As if in answer he saw a flame flicker far ahead in the darkness. Dean started to run.

“Dean!” he heard a voice call after him. This time it was Adam’s. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a son! You know I was his favorite child anyways! You never did well enough in his eyes!”

Dean almost slowed down, but the flame in front of him flickered one last time and died, and he tried to keep his eyes fixed on the spot where he’d seen it last, speeding up again.

Fire meant Michael. And he had to get to him.

* * *

“And there I thought you at least would never betray me. You know how much it hurt when Lucifer fell prey to the darkness. You know how much it hurt, when Gabriel turned his back on us and ran. I thought I could at least rely on you, Michael. But there you are, stabbing me in the back just like your brothers. You were supposed to be the good son. You were supposed to follow orders.”

Michael curled in on himself, his father towering over him. He called his fire up around him, wore it like a protective shell, but it didn’t do much to take the sting out of what the man he had looked up to all his life said.

“I’m disappointed, Michael.” The words hit like a whip. “You of all of my children should’ve known better. I expected more from you!”

“But you lied to us …” Back in the hunting lodge with Lucifer and Raphael and Dean he had believed it. It had hurt, but there hadn’t been much time to feel it, and it had all made sense. Now? He wasn’t too sure anymore. Still he looked up into his father’s eyes. “Why did you lie to us?”

“I’d never lie to you, you know it. Lucifer is the one who has poisoned your soul. But there’s still a way back, my son. You just have to trust me. Do as I say.”

It was tempting, so tempting, to hide behind orders again. “You mean I have to kill Lucifer,” he said. He wasn’t sure of much, but he was sure he didn’t want to do that.

“He’s not your brother any more. He’s a monster.”

“No.” Michael shook his head. He was swimming in a sea of doubts, but he’d looked into Lucifer’s eyes and he’d seen his little brother there.

“Listen to your father! I made you what you are! I know what’s best for you!”

“No …” The word was barely a whisper anymore.

His father sneered. “Look at you. Trying to be like Lucifer and failing so miserably at it.” Then his voice dropped into something soothing once more. “You’re not made for rebellion. Come back to me. Trust me. It’ll all be alright again.”

“Michael! No!”

Dean’s voice broke the spell. Only now did Michael realize that his father had reached out towards him. Only seconds before fingertips touched Michael’s forehead, Dean’s sword came down, lightning crackling along the blade. Michael’s father burst into smoke and dust, and he gasped, jumping to his feet. Of course it had been nothing but an illusion. How could he have thought otherwise?

Dean hurriedly put his sword back in its sheath and grabbed Michael’s shoulders. “Are you alright? I almost fell for it, too. They’re not real, though. It wasn’t real.”

So much concern in those green eyes. Michael couldn’t help but smile, and all of a sudden all his doubts seemed easier to carry. “I know.”

“They seem to get weaker the more sure you are of what you want. I encountered a few more on the way here, but I was way too worried about you to even look at them much. I think I ran right through one.” Dean gave laugh as if he couldn’t believe he’d done that. He was still a bit out of breath, his cheeks flushed, and for the moment Michael was convinced he was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“You were worried, hm?” he asked, feeling a surge of warmth in his chest.

For a moment Dean looked down, and he let go of Michael’s shoulders, taking a step back. But then he looked Michael in the eyes again, a cocky smirk growing on his lips. “Oh, come on, you don’t think this is a one sided thing, don’t you? Did you miss the part where we kissed?”

Point taken. And despite all of it, it made happiness bubble up inside Michael. For a moment he just looked into green eyes, all the darkness around them forgotten.

Then Dean half turned, looked at the place father had stood. “Was that your father?”

Michael nodded.

Dean grinned. “Way to introduce myself to your parents.”

This man was unbelievable. It must be his first time at a place like this, wherever exactly they were, and still he’d overcome the dangers the Oath had thrown at him with just a little bit of help from Raphael – at least the lightning looked like Raphael – and now he was cracking jokes. Michael couldn’t help but laugh. “Thank you,” he said finally.

“You’re welcome.” Dean held his gaze for a while longer, pose relaxed, thumbs hooked behind his belt, something in his eyes that was an invitation and a challenge at the same time. So Michael decided to rise to it. He stepped closer, cupped Dean’s face with both hands and kissed him.

Dean made a surprised, but equally delighted sound, before he kissed back. His hands landed on Michael’s hips, pulling him closer.

It took quite a while until they had to come up for air again, both of them breathing hard.

“Do we even have time for this?” Dean asked, not moving away, though.

“I think this place feeds off our fears and doubts. Starving it sounds like a good idea to me.”

“Oh, in that case …” Michael could feel Dean grinning, right before he claimed Michael’s mouth again.

At least, Michael thought, there was no doubt why he’d fallen for this man. If he was honest, it had been inevitable.

And he could feel the darkness lose its hold over them.

* * *

Dean blinked, when he suddenly found himself standing in front of the fireplace of the hunting lodge again, sword still raised against an attack. Lucifer’s hand was directly in front of his face, tinted red with blood. The necromancer’s finger’s were curled around a tendril of darkness that was slowly withering and turning to dust.

Dean cursed. “Please tell me that didn’t touch me.”

“It did,” Lucifer said, looking inappropriately amused. “But only for half the time it takes one to blink.”

Was that how long they’d been at the strange place? Dean looked around. It wasn’t as dark as he remembered, though maybe that was something he had only imagined. A grid made of lightning and streaks of something that looked suspiciously like blood held the darkness at bay around them.

“Is Michael alright?” Dean half turned to see Raphael checking on their brother.

“I’m fine,” the fire mage said. Then he looked between Raphael and Lucifer. “You’re trying to cage it?”

“Cage it and squish what’s left of it,” Lucifer said.

Michael looked his brother up and down for a moment. Now Dean too realized that the necromancer seemed unusually pale. “How much of your own blood have you used for this spell already, Lucifer?”

“Too much,” Raphael answered in his stead. “I’m using a bit of my magic for keeping him upright or he probably would’ve fainted by now.”

Lucifer huffed. “Not my fault my magic needs people dead.”

Dean could hear Michael drawing breath for a retort, but this really wasn’t the time. “Would you stop bickering?” he interrupted them. “Lucifer, take my blood.” It’s not like he’d be any use in what they were planning otherwise. “And then get to caging that thing, all of you!”

He could hear Lucifer chuckle, but at the same time felt way too cold fingers pulling up his left sleeve. “I get the feeling I know who’s going to be in charge in your new relationship, Michael.”

“We’ll see about that,” Michael retorted. “And if you take too much of his blood, I’ll burn your toes off, Lucifer.”

The butterflies in Dean’s stomach were cut short by Lucifer’s knife digging into his skin. Then the world blurred for a moment, when the necromancer called the blood from his veins maybe a bit too fast. Dean swayed, his sword clattering to the ground. He felt Lucifer hold him upright, heard Michael call a few commands.

When Dean could see clearly again, the darkness had taken the form of a ball on the floor of the hunting lodge. Fire, lightning and a dark red mist encircled it, even though it swirled and fought. While Dean watched, the ball became smaller and smaller until it was the size of his head, then the size of his fist. Finally it was nothing but a small point of flames and light and blood, and then it fizzled and died.

All of a sudden it was Lucifer who had to hold on to Dean to keep his balance. Dean swayed again, but managed not to fall, grabbing the necromancer’s left arm to support him. He felt a bit dizzy, but mostly good. Then Raphael was there, taking over Lucifer’s weight. “You have to sit down, brother.”

“I’m used to blood loss,” Lucifer protested, but he still allowed himself to be led away.

Slowly, Dean turned towards Michael, looking into eyes that were more brown than green in the light of the fire. “So, we won?” he asked.

Michael smiled, looking a bit exhausted himself. “Our father won’t be happy, when he learns about all of this, but for now we won.”

Oh yes. Their father. The thought that the man was still out there somewhere made Dean more than a little bit uneasy. “You’re three mages. You think you can deal with him, if he decides to show up?”

“I think we can. Don’t worry about it now, though. Our home is far from here. It’ll take a while.” Then Michael’s gaze dropped to Dean’s arm. “You’re still bleeding a bit. Let me do something about that.” He turned away and went to where they’d set down their bags, rummaging around in them.

Dean looked down at the long gash on his forearm. “Piece of work, Lucifer.”

“I was in a hurry,” the necromancer grumbled from the direction of one of the chairs. “Don’t worry, Raphael can keep it from scaring. So it won’t ruin your perfect skin, if you’re concerned about that.”

Idiot. “Tell me why I risked my life for you again?”

“You did it for Sammy. And because you want to get into my brother’s pants, probably.”

Michael came back with clean cloth and a few herbs in his hand, shaking his head in amusement. “Your arm, Dean.”

His voice allowed no argument, and Dean extended his bleeding arm, allowing the mage to bandage the wound, watching him while he set to work. “Well,” he said. “Can’t blame me for wanting that.”

For a moment Michael looked up from his work with a subtle smile, a promise in his eyes. “I definitely won’t.”

This sounded like the next night was going to be interesting. Dean smiled. Considering that he had set out to try something desperate today, he really couldn’t complain about the results.

Lucifer groaned. “You two will be insufferable all the way back, will you?”

That made Michael laugh. “Aren’t you happy to have your siblings back?”

“Overjoyed,” Lucifer said in a dry voice.

Raphaels just sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter, then we're done.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things end mostly happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter! Thanks for everybody who came along for the ride! You comments give me life.
> 
> There may be a third part of this eventually, because we're still missing Gabriel and the conflict is only resolved for now. But don't count on it too soon.

They returned to the castle as soon as the rain had led up and Raphael declared Lucifer able to stand upright again. When they walked through the castle doors hours later, everybody eyed Michael and Raphael suspiciously. But as soon as Dean explained that they’d come to an understanding, they all relaxed.

“Thank all the gods!” breathed Adam. “Someone go and let Sam out of his cell!”

Charlie and Kevin practically raced each other to the dungeons.

Only moments later Sam came running into the courtyard. He looked terrible, eyes red, hair a tangled mess. He strode straight towards Lucifer and pulled him into a bone crushing hug, burying his face at the crook of Lucifer’s neck.

It was certainly amusing to watch Lucifer stiffen in surprise, but then relax into the hug, while he pulled a face at the same time. He carded his fingers through Sam’s hair, making low soothing sounds, while even the stable boy stopped to stare for a moment. They were used to seeing Lucifer by now, but all of them still remembered how Lucifer had come to their rescued at the head of an undead army, and that inspires awe in the ‘I don’t want to get on the wrong side of that guy’ kind of way.

“Sam,” the necromancer said after a while. “You’re ruining my reputation.”

Sam murmured something that sounded suspiciously like: “Fuck your reputation.” And Lucifer wrapped his arms around him with a sigh.

“I get the feeling,” Michael said, standing next to Dean, “just observing those two together would’ve cleared things up a lot faster.”

Dean chuckled. “They’re not usually that sappy.”

“I think, though,” Raphael said, “that there’ll be a lot of sappiness in the future. Not just from those two.” They side eyed Dean and Michael, making Dean realize for the first time that they were standing so close their shoulders were almost brushing. Pointedly, Dean leaned even closer.

Raphael rolled their eyes.

Adam cleared his throat. “We have a decent library here where one can hide.”

Instantly, Raphael’s face lit up. Great, they’d probably have to get a bigger library now with all the people here that actually liked reading.

“I can show it to you once you settled in,” Adam offered. “You are staying, aren’t you?”

Dean looked at Michael, who looked back a bit insecure all of a sudden. “I’m not sure, if you’d want to have three mages –”

“They’re staying,” Dean interrupted him. Yes, three mages in one place sounded like a catastrophe waiting to happen, but they’d figure something out. At least no one in their right mind would dare to attack them now.

Raphael gave a shrug. “Apparently we’re staying, yes.”

“You better not try anything regarding Lucifer again, though,” Sam’s voice came from where he was slowly disentangling himself from his necromancer. The mix between affection and offence on Lucifer’s face at Sam’s protectiveness was the most funny look Dean had ever seen.

When he saw Dean grinning, Lucifer threw him a murderous look.

“We won’t,” Michael said. “We promise.”

* * *

Later that night after a decent meal, when everybody was ready to call it a night, Michael cornered Dean in a hallway. It was dark here, but there was a small flame at the tip of Michael’s index finger that gave enough light to see. It also cast long shadows over Michael’s face, making him look a bit dangerous in a way Dean definitely approved of.

“I was given a guest room,” Michael said.

Dean tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Yes? Is there something wrong with it?”

“It doesn’t have you in it.”

Oh. Dean felt a grin tug on his lips. Take away all loyalty conflicts and Michael apparently became quite sure of himself. Dean liked it. “Well, we should fix that, shouldn’t we? Can’t have our guests be unhappy with the arrangements.”

Michael nodded, now smiling himself. “I’d appreciate that very much.”

“If you would be so kind as to follow me then.” Dean gave a wink and turned in the direction of his own bedroom. Michael caught up fast. Dean had been right, this night was going to be interesting.

He’d barely stepped into his room, when Michael pulled him into a kiss. Dean kicked the door shut behind them, kissing back while he fumbled with the way too many straps of Michael’s leather armor.

Michael busied himself with the buttons on Dean’s clothes, but gave up after a while, just ripping at them. As the sprang away, Dean leaned away a little. “Slow down, we got time.”

Michael hummed in agreement, but it sounded a bit skeptical. “I was thinking, instead of waiting for our father to get here, we should take this fight to him and end it, before he can destroy anything we love.”

Dean stopped, pushing the mage away from him a bit. “So you’re leaving again, soon?”

Could life really be that unfair?

“Maybe.” Michael’s hands found Dean’s hips, and he pulled him in again. Dean allowed it, feeling warmth of Michael’s body through the fabric of their clothes.

“Stay at least for a little while,” he said.

“As you wish. But I don’t want to see you get in harm’s way again.”

“It’ll be fine.” Dean ducked his head down, kissing along the side of Michael’s neck, breath ghosting over the shell of Michael’s ear when he continued. “As long as we all stick together it’ll be fine. I agree, we should make plans, but let’s talk about this tomorrow. And don’t you dare think I won’t be ready to have your back, no matter what happens.”

Michael sighed, and then Dean could feel him relax into their embrace. “Talk tomorrow,” he agreed.

* * *

Later they lay on Dean’s bed, Dean watching Michael through half closed lids. The mage was busy trailing his fingertips over every inch of Dean’s skin as if he wanted to commit it to memory.

“Maybe your father will just let you go,” Dean said. “You said you have another brother who ran away, didn’t you? Did he ever try to find him?”

Michael gave his skeptical hum again. “You’re right, we shouldn’t be seeking a conflict that may be avoided completely.”

“So you won’t be leaving any time soon.” It wasn’t that Dean was all for putting their heads in the sand, but confronting a man who put something like the Shadow Oath on his son? They had to be sure that there was no other way.

Michael smiled. “Probably not too soon. Let’s see what the future brings.”

“Yes,” Dean agreed. “Let’s see about that.”


End file.
